#yall this isn’t real life

[plumbewb]

what fucking planet am i on???

[the-somwthing]

I feel the need to say that I’m totally fine with manipulative/toxic/whatever interpretations of c!scott actually, my problem is just that there’s some times (ESPECIALLY in wild life) where I feel like it just doesn’t apply (or only barely applies at best) and these “analyses” get to the point where it feels so much like NOT what’s happening that it’s less of a character analysis and more like “how bad can I make this character look without acknowledging any positive traits”. Like I liked the old abusive c!scott analyses. NOW it just looks like slop 😭 can we go back to looking at characters with a refreshed lens each season. Like you can look back at the old ones for reference for sure but people can change my god.

[quillkiller]

Petunia literally abused Harry bro 💀 and pointing that out doesn’t mean we’re downplaying her grief or bc she’s a woman

yall are gonna freak out when you realise that abusers are also human

[pastelpousay]

Y’all don’t understand like…all I can do is think of hades and rina all I can do is talk about Hadina, all I can do is eat sleep and breathe in their relationship and the love they feel for each other like y’all don’t understand

(I’m bout the cry yall.. why can’t they be canon 😿 and why can’t hades be real)

[rotating-hyperfixations]

I’m really starting to get sick of leftists the closer we get to the election. While I think some of their ideology has merit and I even agree with them on certain things, the incessant need to not compromise on any beliefs and make everything a purity test is starting to get old, fast. They act like this is the first election with an ongoing crisis overseas (it’s not) and that a candidate must completely match their belief system or else they are unworthy of a vote. Like I’m sorry you can’t be a one issue voter on a foreign policy that’s far more complex then the last ~year; especially with such a far right republican candidate/ticket. I’m sorry, but it’s incredibly selfish at this point when the rights of people in this country are actively being threatened. We can’t help others if we don’t help ourselves first.

I do think the good news is people are getting annoyed with them fast and because so many of them are young teenagers and college students, that as they go back to school and they aren’t met with the same understanding as they did at the end of the semester, they’ll change their tune quickly. They became a vocal minority at the end of the spring semester when things looked bleak and no one wanted to vote for Biden. With Kamala now running for President and galvanizing a lot of people, and I think trying to dispel any progress towards another democratic candidate will not go over well with their peers. Not to mention people are just sick of living in unprecedented political times, and I think people are getting just sick of the constant dialogue that their a moral failure by leftists and will just write them off and not give them any credence. And because it’s a largely young group, I do think that as their peers begin to judge them more harshly (especially online l) that they’ll start to fade out. The support is already dwindling and when faced with both in person and online judgement from their peers, they switch positions and never be heard from again. Sure, some will remain and be loud and annoying; but so many will just stop posting political content because they don’t want to seem to “crazy” or weird to their peers/friends.

[shame-kink]

pisses me off so much much that i’m not immune to people arguing about steven universe

[astonmartinii]

i love him, it's ruining my life [guilty as sin part one] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

a contract ends, a relationship is exposed and even with everything on the line, she still loves him.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 621,099 others

yourusername: out and about town

view all comments

user1: girl? girl? GIRL?

user2: carlos' career is DEAD AND SHE'S POSTING VACATION PICS ON INSTAGRAM

user3: at least they're cute instagram pics

landonorris: y/n i think it's time you finally take that phone off of do not disturb

yourusername: but that's the perpetual state of my phone i am a poet i was born to be in the woods, if you have news tell me now before i close this app in 20 seconds

landonorris: i don't want to air your brother's business out in a public instagram comments literally just scroll through your timeline idiot

yourusername: wait let me open the family group chat

yourusername: WHAT

user4: are we about to see her reaction to carlos losing his seat in real time?

user5: let me grab my popcorn one sec

yourusername: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

landonorris: take your phone off DND for once in your life and maybe you’d be clued in on the news

charles_leclerc: and while you’re at it reply to all the tiktoks i sent you

landonorris: not the time leclerc

charles_leclerc: but but but my tiktoks… i finally got a tarot card reading that resonates

landonorris: NOT THE TIME

charles_leclerc: don’t hate the player hate the game

carlossainz55: really?

charles_leclerc: i am TALKING ABOUT TIKTOKS LEAVE ME ALONE

yourusername: this is a lot - gosh can’t a girl go on holiday without everything imploding (i'll check the tiktoks in a second)

user6: anyone kinda weirded out that charles is just here joking with y/n as if his teammate and her brother hasn’t just been forced out of a job?

liked by carlossainz55

user7: babe he wasn’t forced out of a job, his contract wasn’t renewed. the last time i checked this was a sport where they compete not sit around and sit kumbaya

liked by charles_leclerc

user8: oh! they’re both liking shady comments already, it’s been a day since the announcement

user9: this is gonna get ugly isn’t it?

user10: awful, truly. i’m sat.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,458 others

carlossainz55: love all, trust a few and do wrong to none

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user11: .... right, what ever the fuck that means?

user12: i mean i was just here to celebrate the win what is all this poetry

user11: are we shading charles? lewis? ferrari?

yourusername: shakespeare, really?

carlossainz55: i can read you know

yourusername: oh really, that's news to me

user13: erm you guys i thought the whole job loss thing was meant to bring the family together....

user14: they joke like this all the time this is just sibling banter

user15: idk it's reading a lil more tense than usual, not that there's any reason for that (that we know of)

charles_leclerc: doing the tifosi proud ❤️

carlossainz55: will do while i can

user16: yall .... what happened to the chemistry

user17: they were never friends - pierre tried to tell yall

landonorris: a carlando podium !!! lets do this every week

carlossainz55: golf buddies and podium buddies - you love to see it

landonorris: LETS GO WILD AND PUT IT ON FERRARIS TAB THEY OWE YOU

landonorris: i mean let's celebrate your triumph good pal!

user18: the PR monster got lando :( rip

carlossainz55: just being able to win in front of the most important people in my life is enough

user19: does anyone else think it was weird that y/n wasn't at the race?

user20: like y/n loves australia she litr says that she was an aussie in a past life...

user21: also the most recent carlos comment... is y/n not one of the most important people in his life?

user22: do we think something has happened? like maybe he thought she should've cut her holiday short to come home to support him?

user23: also the fact that her and charles were immediately like joking around with each other? maybe it just rubbed him the wrong way

user24: but not even considering her an important person to him? and also that just seems like he's shifting all the blame to charles when it's ferrari who haven't extended the contract

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 892,309 others

tagged: kellypiquet & yourusername

maxverstappen1: she says she's a professional third wheel, i call that being a LEECH

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user29: unlikely trio but somehow my favourite

user30: y/n really be their overgrown child

yourusername: how am i the leech when i paid for the ice cream mr millionaire 🤨

maxverstappen1: ever thought about how i want to spend quality time with my girlfriend?

yourusername: won't someone think of the children

maxverstappen1: ur 23

yourusername: that's it! p and i are unionising against this if you find suspiciously well drawn crayon graffiti on your walls it was NOT me

maxverstappen1: don't threaten my walls if you still want to come to races

yourusername: low blow 😩

user31: does that mean... she's not going to races with carlos?

user32: she's always been in his garage tho like even with how close her and max have always been SHE'S ALWAYS IN GARAGE 55

user33: i feel like this has something to do with the whole seat situation i'm not sure how but like i think there's something weird going on here

kellypiquet: don't worry @yourusername it might be max's house but it's p that has the final say

yourusername: no one gets bluey like i do

maxverstappen1: yeah but while you're here you get the best seat at the tea party IT'S NOT FAIR

yourusername: well one of us can name all the disney princesses and one of us can't

user34: so.... y/n is living with max? but i thought her and carlos shared an apartment in madrid?

user35: guys i'm so confused

user36: we need the twitter detectives on this asap

charles_leclerc: no lec... when i specifically sent you a PR bundle, you hate to see it

maxverstappen1: you only sent that to us for y/n

charles_leclerc: maybe! but i have it on good authority that you loved the vanilla

maxverstappen1: ummmmmmm no i'm a professional athlete, y/n ate all of it

yourusernames: FALSEHOODS

charles_leclerc: i know who i believe

maxverstappen1: why is everyone ganging up on me in this comment section

user37: charles sending lec to max's house just for y/n WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN

user38: and does it have anything to do with carlos maybe kicking her out

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 673,892 others

yourusername: gotta make sure i give p a reason to tell me stick around

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user39: charles is always in the likes before me and i have notifications on

user40: they seem like such close friends it's so annoying that they're never spotted together at a race and we have no pictures of them :(

charles_leclerc: why do i never get any baked goods i literally sent my ice cream to my arch rivals house just for you

yourusername: you're never in the fucking country that's why

charles_leclerc: i have this kind of demanding job i don't know if you knew

yourusername: i also have the demanding job of being sexy and i cope just fine

charles_leclerc: i heard you got employee of the year, hard to be too upset when you're the competition

yourusername: better luck next time babe

user41: openly flirting with the guy that caused her brother to lose his job, this girl is just shameless

yourusername: do you think charles is the literal ceo of ferrari?

user42: why are you defending charles more than your actual brother?

yourusername: i feel like i gotta make this statement every three buisness days on here but like you people don't know what happens in our personal lives and i can defend my friends if i feel they're being unnecessarily questioned

user43: queen snapped omg

user38: they always be out here trying her like she's not a writer and poet SHE WILL READ YOU FOR FILTH

maxverstappen1: pretty sure she'd replace you with me in like two seconds so you're safe until [redacted] gets home

yourusername: i'm pretty sure with the right campaign i could sway jimmy and sassy to my side as well

user44: who the FUCK IS REDACTED

maxverstappen1: wouldn't you like to know 🤨

yourusername: max ???

maxverstappen1: what? i didn't have friends growing up i like that you tell me secrets

yourusername: oh :(

maxverstappen1: you wanna tell me more?

yourusername: NO YOU ALREADY KNOW THE BIGGEST ONE

maxverstappen1: true 💅🏻

user45: so like the secret is defo a relationship right?

user46: do we think carlos knows?

user47: by the fact that he's not in these comments... probably not

user48: so like he looses his seat and finds out his sister is in a secret relationship? someone give the guy a break

user49: or maybe, just maybe, there's a reason that y/n hasn't told carlos and he's not the guy we all think he is

liked by charles_leclerc

user50: OH? this war is so on ....

f1teaspill

liked by user51, user52 and 31,845 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

f1teaspill: the war at ferrari is heating up... turns out there's a lot carlos didn't know and FOR YEARS. yes, you're reading that right, y/n sainz and charles leclerc have been in a relationship for at least two years and believe us we have a VERY credible source like WITHIN THE FAMILY level source.

the most important thing about this whole relationship is how carlos did not know for years, so how much more was hidden from him? did y/n know about the seat swap for lewis? was she leaking strategies to charles? was she sabotaging her own brother?

view all comments

user53: OH SHITTTTTTTTTT

user54: cancel me if you will but i think the hottest couple in f1 just dropped

user55: the fact we've been robbed of content of them for years .... i'm angry I NEED THE POETRY ABOUT CHARLES

user56: i'm gonna need y/n or charles to drop all the pics in response

user57: y'all a source "within the family"? did these fools find out about y/n's relationship and immediately run to an f1 TEA PAGE???

user58: that's some goofy ass shit

user59: i find it funny that instead of sitting down and thinking about why their daughter/sister didn't feel comfortable enough to tell you about her relationship they're like i know EXACTLY who needs to hear this

user60: the way it's proved her completely right to not tell them

user61: do you guys think this is like a tv show or like fan fiction? in what world is y/n sharing strategies to fuck over her own BROTHER?

user62: also be for fucking real... strategies? ferrari? at least try and be realistic

user63: also.... walk with me .... why would y/n and charles conspire to put lewis hamilton in carlos' seat? LEWIS FUCKING HAMILTON AND SEVEN TIME WORLD CHAMPION? WHY WOULD CHARLES WANT TO TAKE HIM ON OVER A GUY HE'S ALREADY BEATEN TWICE

user64: see this is the point! sainz camp you can try and demonise charles and yOUR OWN DAUGHTER all you want but we all know it's bull shit

user65: one thing about this that really rubs me the wrong way is that the sainz camp clearly expected that if y/n was in a relationship with charles that she would've been a double agent for carlos? and because she's not fucking insane they're now going for character assassination of their own SISTER/DAUGHTER

user66: THIS THIS THIS

user67: carlos won't even consider y/n an "important" person in his life but expect her to sacrifice or exploit her relationship for cheap psychological points

user68: also y/n isn't even at most races so how is she getting carlos' strategies to give to charles? this shit doesn't make any sense

user69: carlos himself has said in an interview that y/n is useless when it comes to racing that she's just a supportive figure rather than someone who has any in depth racing knowledge

user70: this is insane level hating with all the evidence out here... and against your own family...

user71: this just makes me think that y/n wasn't in australia for a reason - like was she banned from carlos' garage

user72: and the fact she's been staying at max's it just makes me think that y/n was kicked out of her and carlos' apartment

user73: now tHATS INSANE

espnf1

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,025,788 others

tagged: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc & yourusername

espnf1: well... this could be awkward

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user77: espn babe you're just like me

user78: *slides $5 across the bar* get a camera in the ferrari garage?

espnf1: we're working on it 😩

user79: pierre and max here... they really are the paddock gossip girls

maxverstappen1: i guess carlos couldn't handle that i knew who redacted was before him 🤷🏻‍♂️

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: don't put your sister on the streets and i won't dunk these jokes on your head

user80: is this like the official f1 civil war?

carlossainz55: you don't know anything max, i'd really keep your nose out of our business

maxverstappen1: i actually know exactly how you guys move, you tried it on 17 year old me and it becomes my business when my best friend calls me with no where else to go (also i know you changed the locks while you were in maranello so she wouldn't be able to go to charles, you're not slick)

carlossainz55: i never took you as a lap dog max

yourusername: calling him the lap dog when you're the biggest bitch on the grid - bold

carlossainz55: you're burning a lot of bridges for a talentless slut who had to start fucking my teammate when we cut you off

yourusername: keep throwing your PR to the fire and see who fucking hires you, i guess we'll both be unemployed bums

user80: also imagine calling her talentless like she isn't a well established poet LOL

user81: guys this is getting so bad so quickly

user82: we got the whole rest of the season of this

user83: mad respect to max for sticking up for his bestie

user84: and her actual boyfriend isn't?

yourusername: charles will do his talking on the track like he always does. he won't debase himself with bickering in instagram comments, funnily enough ferrari don't like that - might be the reason he still has a seat and someone doesn't

carlossainz55: or he's a pussy who has his woman talk for him

yourusername: at least he has a woman to talk for him, he doesn't behind his dad at any sign of trouble. i've always known i didn't matter to dad the moment i wasn't a boy but i'm not afraid of him or you and i know exactly how you work. good luck

user85: do they know we can all read this?

user86: when i'm in an oversharing contest and the sainz siblings walk in

user87: those ferrari debriefs are gonna be AWKWARD

yourusername: especially since he doesn't have binotto to hide behind any more

user88: girl you good?

yourusername: i've never been better, this has been building for years even before charles and i got together

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 908,487 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i love you, it's ruining my life

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user89: y/n i'm gonna let you finish but we could really get the best poetry out of all of this

user90: for real like yeah i'm sorry your brother tried to make you homeless, exposed your relationship, accused you of treason and called you a talentless slut - but think of the poetry!

charles_leclerc: i love you and i hope you're okay

yourusername: i'll always be okay with you

charles_leclerc: it's out now and no one can take us away from each other

charles_leclerc: i'd actually love to see them try

yourusername: i'd go through this fortnight of hell over and over again if it meant i'd still keep you

charles_leclerc: i'd like to say this is the end of it but i think we're in for the long run now

yourusername: i'm prepared to go to war for you

charles_leclerc: there's no one i'd rather be on the front lines with

user91: oh brother... YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A POET WE GET IT

charles_leclerc: * in love with

user91: oh my bad

charles_leclerc: no worries

user91: STILL GROSS BRO

liked by maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: max ???

maxverstappen1: you guys need to calm down cause i'm not good with words and kelly is gonna start scrutinising my cards and i DO NOT HAVE THE VOCABULARY FOR IT

yourusername: lol

maxverstappen1: lol? LOL? did our brief yet forced stint as roommates mean nothing?

yourusername: fine i'll ghostwrite your valentines cards

user92: so this is all a bit melodramatic

user93: he CHANGED THE LOCKS BRO SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO BE MELODRAMATIC

liked by charles_leclerc

user94: okay so now we're in full blown f1 civil war - who is on each side?

user95: well max and pierre are on charles' side. i'd also add in lewis, seb, oscar, esteban, george, alex, yuki and daniel

user96: so carlos has lando and fernando?

fernandoalo_oficial: it might not be blood but that's my daughter

user96: ????

user97: did he just show up to diss carlos and then refuse to elaborate?

user98: sounds like a nando thing to do .... also just leaves carlos with lando lol

user99: this feels a bit unfair

yourusername: all is fair in love and poetry

fin.

note: so as soon as i had this idea (litr TTPD release day) i have been so busy and WHACKED with the worst writer's block but i hope this is a good start and rest assured knowing the beef will only get worse... I LOVE DRAMA

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: @aadu2173 @rhythmstars @kqliie @booksandflowrs @2bormaybenot @firelily-mimi @evie-119

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Crawling Back to You

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader SMUT

Summary: Hotch shows up at your place late one night needing company.

CW: newly divorced!Hotch, needy!Hotch, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie,

a/n: imma be real with yall, I don’t think I’ll ever write a Hotch fanfic where the reader isn’t a part of the BAU lol also this is pretty much straight sex

*This is the fanfic the won the poll so it’s the one I finished first!*

~~~

It was nearly midnight.

So when a hasty knock pounded against your door, you were apprehensive. Finger resting flat against the side of your gun as you looked through your peephole. Unsuspecting a familiar face at this hour.

“Hotch?”

Aaron Hotchner. Your supervisor and Unit Chief. Bags under his eyes heavy with lines mapping his face. Lips pierced tightly into his mouth as his doey brown eyes looked at you. A small bit of stubble decorated his jaw. You examined his body making sure he did not have anything physically wrong with him. Noting his lack of work attire. T-Shirt with a zip-up over it along with some jogger pants and tennis shoes. Far more casual than you ever saw him.

“May I come inside?”

You stepped back into your home, allowing him to pass by you. Scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses. Musky, with some sweeter hints underneath. Closing and locking the door behind you. Placing your gun back into its holster and hiding it in its usual spot.

“Is everything okay?”

Your hand rubbed your neck as you watched him look around your place. It was dark and silent. You made it a routine to read before bed. Curled up under your soft, yellow lamp on your couch. Just getting to the end of the latest chapter when you had been taken aback by the noise at your door.

Hotch’s silence worried you. Brow resting heavy upon his head as his fists clinched at his sides. Fearing he had some extremely troubling news to share with you. His disheveled hair and lack of formality clued you in that he had come over after something happened.

“Hotch…?”

You trailed off as you closed the distance between you. Hand flattening against his back with your question. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. Orbs glossy and sad. Your expression dropped when you saw the tears staining the corner of his eyes. Never having seen your boss like this. It tugged at your heart.

“Oh, Aaron…”

“Can I… stay here tonight? I can’t be alone in that house another night,” Hotch’s voice was soft and broken. Fighting off showing his emotions to you. Expression as if he had just seen someone kick his puppy. Urge inside you wanting to caress his face and pull him into a hug.

Divorce was hard. Even for someone as cold and stoic as Aaron Hotchner. It was far worse when a child was involved. Throwing his mundane life through the wringer. Ripping away the semblance of normality he had.

“Of course,” your fingers trickled down his arm, “Can I get you anything?” Offering as he slumped into your couch.

“Just some water,” his shaky voice had your stomach doing flips. Hurrying into the kitchen to hide your flushed expression. Pouring him a small cup and sitting it on the table in front of him. His neck strained backward as he rested his head. Admiring how the soft glow of your living room highlighted his jawline.

The two of you sat in complete silence. You fidgeting with your own hands. Pinching and rolling your fingers. Watching Hotch’s broad chest rise and fall with each deep breath he took. His nostrils flaring with slight irritation. Clearly defeated and tired. Unable to properly rest on his own.

Sighing heavily as he sat up. Leaning forward to grab the water. Drinking nearly half the glass in one go. It was strange seeing him here. On your couch in some ordinary clothes. Feeling like ordinary people momentarily. Hotch’s face fell into his hands. Rubbing along his worry lines.

“Hotch—“

“Y/N, I—“

You spoke at the same time. Awkwardly smiling as you cut each other off. Soft, unsure chuckles vibrating off your walls. Your hand planting itself against Hotch’s arm as you leaned forward, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Hotch’s sorry eyes blinked towards you. Eyebrows curved and mouth frowned. Same glassy stare from before returning. Nodding slowly, “I’ve been so lonely…” Your arms raised as Hotch laid his head in your lap. Unsure where to place your hands. Blushing at the intimacy your boss was seeking in you. Unable to deny the feelings swimming around your chest for him.

Resting one hand on his head and the other softly lying against his arm. Fingers petting his hair, stiff locks slowly softening. His hand came up and interlocked fingers with yours against his arm. Pulling your hand closer to his face. Cheek resting against it, a soft peck of his lips gifting itself there.

Your heartbeat rang in your ears. Trying your hardest to steady your breathing. To stop the shaking of your hands. Warmth engulfing you from where each part of him touched you.

Intimacy was not something anyone in the BAU ever got from Hotch. An occasional hug after something may have endangered someone. His tended to be spoken. Not physical. So this was a strange new feeling.

Not helping with the under-the-table feelings you had been harboring for Hotch for so long.

“Y/N…”

There was a whine on his tone that made your head spin. Your fingers tightened in his hair instinctively. Gripping on to something to support the pulse that radiated in your lower half. His brows knitted together at the feeling, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“Yeah?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Loosening your grip. Going back to gently petting him. Trying to calm yourself down.

Hotch turned, reaching his arm up to cup your face. Thumb tracing against your cheek. Dark pupils looked into yours. Admiring your face. Pushing himself up to meet your lips. Capturing you in a deep kiss.

Surprising you.

“A-Aaron…”

You stumbled. Not wanting him to do anything he would regret. Eyes scanning his for some semblance of— Regret? Fear? Hesitation? Something?

“Please…”

Aaron’s sultry voice and the feeling of his large hand against your face had you melting into him. His wanting tone begging you. Puppy dog eyes looking into you. Lips finding yours again. Pulling your lower lip between his. Tongue wanting to explore your mouth. Allowing him to pin you mostly against the couch with his torso. Thick fingers tangled in your hair. Holding you close to him as he latched onto you.

Pulling away for only a moment. Looking into each other’s eyes. Seeing nothing but desperate desire in his.

“You look so beautiful in this light,” Hotch gently pushed your hair behind your ear. Watching your face redden and lashes fluttered at his compliment. His lips planted on your neck, hand gripping the back of your head. Sucking and licking softly against your skin. Trailing along your pulse. No doubt, leaving soft purple marks behind. Nothing that would not fade or be easily covered by makeup, of course. Just enough for you to feel how badly he wanted you.

“Aaron…” you began, wanting to tell him how you were not some cheap hookup to help him get over his wife. How you needed to be something more than that with him. Confessing all your pent up feelings for him. How heavily they had been lying on your shoulders. And that you wanted this, just more special.

But.

When Aaron looked up at you with his big, sad brown eyes every thought you had disappeared. Consumed by how pathetic and desperate he looked. Disheveled hair and shiny lips sending you into a feral state.

You mouthed attempting to find the words. Losing every semblance of a thought as you watched his eyes dart between your eyes and lips. Hand coming up to cup his face. Nuzzling into your grasp as he stared at you. Warmth from his cheeks heating up your palm.

“Are you just wanting an outlet?” the whisper escaped your mouth without thought.

“No… I just want you,” Aaron whispered back. A soft confession of his true feelings. Leaning in to kiss you once more. Tongue parting your lips to lap into your mouth. Deepening the kiss as he sat up further. Attempting to shift so that he was pulling you onto his own lap. Shuffling around each other until your legs straddled him.

Long, thick fingers rubbed up your exposed thighs. Resting against your hips. Doeing his eyes up at you. Hands resting on his shoulders as you sat upon him. Enjoying the weight of you on his body. His hands danced under your loose fitting shirt, feeling your soft plump skin. Running up to squeeze at your breasts. Softly pinching at your nipples through your bra. Hotch sighed, hint of a smile on his face.

Gentle hands splayed across his chest. Fingertips tracing the zipper until you were pulling it down. Helping him remove his jacket, throwing it onto the floor. Leaving him in only a tight, white shirt. Muscles accented by the short sleeves and dim lighting. Lips falling against his jugular. Featherlight kisses scattered across his skin. His own hands gripping onto your back tightly. Shortly finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it.

Coarse fingertips hooked around the hem of your shirt, pulling it and your bra off in succession. Hotch’s hands gripped your back. Awestruck by the look of you above him. Nipples hardening when the cold air washed over your body. Softly cupping his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him once more. A groan vibrating through his throat when your breasts pressed against him.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Hotch,” you spoke into his mouth.

Corner of his mouth curved into a grin. Eyebrows still pressed tightly together as if he was still unsure. Not completely convinced on why he came here. Just knowing his body craved yours tonight.

“Take me to your bedroom,” Hotch breathed out. Not demanding, simply asking. Pleading eyes locking into yours.

You rose off his lap. Standing before his disheveled state. Legs spread wide with a tent pitched between them. Heating up your face when his body followed yours like losing contact with you physically hurt him. Interlocking fingers to guide him down the hallway. Smiling over your shoulder at him.

Allowing him into the room first, closing and locking the door behind you. His body was quick to pin yours against the door. Knocking the air out of your lungs momentarily. Strong hands squeezed at your softness. Pulling a moan from you when his rough fingertips pinched at your nipples. Leaning down to capture the bulb between his lips. Muttering curses and his name under your breath.

“Please, Y/N… I-I need you,” Hotch mumbled against your flesh. Hands trailed the waistband on your shorts.

“How do you need me?” You kissed his jawline.

“On top, please…” he trailed off. Moaning when your hand flattened against his erection. Fingers gripped around him, gently stroking his shaft. Hotch became a whimpering mess in your hand. Eyes squinted shut and mouth hanging open. You led him back against your bed step-by-step. Back of his knees buckling when they met the mattress. Resting up on his elbows to continue looking at you.

Thumbs tugged at your waist, pulling down your shorts and panties. Causing Hotch’s breath to tighten in his throat. Seeing you in your full nudity leading to his clothes feeling obscenely tight. Practically ripping his shirt from his chest.

Kneeling down before him. Hotch’s bare chest heaved. Melting expression stirring around your stomach, finding itself nestling between your legs. Manicured fingertips played at his waistband. Hotch craned his neck back, adoring the feeling of your hands on him. Steadily, shaking hands pulled his joggers down his legs. Revealing the outline of his erection in his boxer-briefs. Mouth watering sight before you.

"Oh, God, please," Hotch begged with a broken voice. Your lips kissed against his stomach directly above his underwear. Traveling down to be kissing the length of his shaft. Hatch's legs bounced with anticipation. Finally, you removed his underwear from his body. Cock bouncing free. Thick and swollen, with a drop of pre-cum decorating the head. Throwing his boxer-briefs somewhere on the floor as you straddled his waist. Passionate hands dug into your waist. Completely slack jawed as he took in every inch of you.

"Y-You... you're incredible," Hotch breathed out, eyes finding their place in yours again. Shining in the moonlight that beamed in through your barely opened curtain. Your cheeks burned at his compliment. Unable to deny the full faced smile that overtook you. Blushing at his soft expression.

You hovered directly over his cock. Nose to nose with your boss. Kissing him again before resting your hips against his. Cock gliding through your slick folds as you capture it between your bodies. Hotch moaned at the feeling of your warmth, "Oh, Y/N."

You grinded down on him, lathering his member with your arousal. Shaky gasps escaped him with each move of your hips. "Please, please," Hotch stammered with squinted eyes, "I need to be inside you, now."

Hand lined him up with your entrance. Sinking down slowly as to adjust to his girth. Your face contorted in pleasure at the feeling of him stretching you. Calling out his name when you were flush against his body. Large, brown eyes stared up at you. Face flushed and agape as he watched you rise and fall onto his cock again. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you found a perfect rhythm. Chanting his name over and over again as you rode him.

Hotch's hands grasped under your thighs, helping you get higher off him. Sloppy sounds filled your silent bedroom. Mixed in with the grunts and moans that escaped you and Hotch. Sound of slapping skin rang in your ears.

"Perfect," Hotch sighed breathlessly, finally relaxing his neck and head onto the mattress. Your nails dug into his chest, arching your hips to allow him deeper inside you. Panting as you hopped up and down. Lost with how perfectly his cock hit every spot inside you. Running your hand down the front of yourself, fingers finding your sensitive clit. Circling it.

"Aaron," you whined when he hit that spongy spot deep inside that had electricity shooting through your nerves.

"I love when you say my name," Hotch grunted. Your insides constricted with his deep, sultry voice. Causing him to rut his hips upward, chasing the feeling.

And you swear you had never had someone this good. As if his cock had been made perfectly for you. Almost like Hotch already knew your body. Knew how to make it feel good and how to get you there. He had you seeing stars.

"Can I cum inside you?"

His shaken voice pleaded. Feeling himself twitch and grow more sensitive knowing his end was approaching. Not wanting to lose the sensation of you wrapped around him.

"Please, Y/N."

You nodded viciously. Feeling your own orgasm preparing to wash over you as the familiar tightening in your stomach returned. Bottoms of your feet tingled with heat as you moaned above him. Looking down to see his puppy dog eyes doeing up at you. As if he had never seen anything as beautiful as you in his life. Admiring every single piece of you. Never wanting to leave you.

A few more swirls of your fingers had your insides clamping around Hotch. You fell forward, holding onto him for support as you shook. Moaning into his ear, his name a mantra from your tongue. He held you tight against him, bottoming out inside you as you finished around him. "So good," he praised into your ears.

Hotch continued the movements you had been doing. Thrusting his hips up into you, clearly chasing his own high now. Forcing a squeaky whine with each snap of his hips. Strong fingers dug into your back as kept you flush to his chest. Angled hips causing your sensitive cunt to spasm. Few more before he was shooting up into you. Filling you to the hilt with his seed, keeping his hips firmly pressed into yours. Trembling as he finished.

Lying in silence other than both of your panting. Refusing to move from the position you were in. Cock halfway softening inside you. Your nose was tucked into the crook of his neck. His hands gently rubbed up your back. Enjoying the feeling of your bodies still tangled together. Hearts beating in sync. Minds consumed by thoughts of the other. The world fading around you.

Hotch planted a kiss on the side of your head. Causing you to lean up and look at him. Being greeted with a smile that caused you to blush. Somehow still making you feel flustered even after fucking you. As if you were not lying completely nude against him. Nestling your face back into his neck to hide your heated cheeks. Hotch chuckled at your embarrassment.

"Thank you," Hotch broke the silence.

"You don't have to thank me," you smiled against his skin.

Hotch hummed in response.

You remained like this for several minutes. Drifting off, the late hours catching up with you.

"Let's get under the blanket," you shivered with the chill of the room hitting your warm skin.

"Don't wanna move," Hotch's sleepy tone made your stomach do a flip.

"Come on," you pushed yourself up. Causing his member to slip out of you. The two of you wincing at the sensation. Hotch groaned at the lost of your body heat. Reaching up for you as you crawled up to the pillows. Finally rolling to meet you under the blanket. Nestling under the bedding together.

Hotch wrapped his arms around you. Getting as close to you as possible. Engulfing you in his warmth. You wrapped your own arms around him. Limbs tangling together as you found a comfortable position together.

You felt yourself falling asleep in his comfort. Hoping that in the morning this would all be a happy memory you shared. Begging for him to still want you by daybreak.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! You all have been nothing less than wonderful ever since I started writing for Hotch. I really love seeing all the comments and reposts, you guys mean the world to me! As always, my inbox is always open and if you want to be tagged in the future let me know! //

{tags}

@mrs-ssa-hotch ~ @bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @cherriready ~ @khxna ~ @megangovier ~ @justyourusualash ~ @boybandbaby ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~

[clonecaptains]

On Tap

a jake 'hangman' seresin x shy!reader fic

warnings: none! unless you count jake being shirtless as one; she/her pronouns used; no use of y/n

word count: 1.7k

summary: you work for your family friend penny at the hard deck one summer and meet this handsome pilot....

a/n: i haven't written ?? something in over a year so thanks to glen powell for this i guess? and for yall encouraging me to write!! thank you for reading!

You don’t even remember how it started. And looking back you think maybe divine intervention must have led you here.

Your Aunt Penny – who isn’t even really your aunt, it’s what you’ve called her your whole life – invites you to work with her for the summer at the bar she owns. The Hard Deck.

Divine intervention or just your aunt thinking about you for a summer job has you quick to say yes. That’s how you find yourself working in a busy bar full of handsome men in uniform.

Penny, has you working odd jobs, filling in wherever you’re needed. Even if you never expected yourself to take a job like this – it was the freedom you wanted. To be somewhere else. Away from home.

What you didn’t know was that you’d find your new home here. And it wasn’t at Penny’s – you did live with her for a good while. But no, your new home would be a person. A tall dirty blond pilot with a flashy grin and strong arms that squeezed you tight.

You’d seen him around at the bar of course. He was hard to miss. There was something about him though that caught your eye more than any of the other pilots who frequented the joint.

Hangman they called him.

You asked Penny once what his real name was after he’d asked her for a couple beers. You tried to ask as casually as you could and if she suspected your crush on him, she didn’t say anything to tease. She did, however, tell you his name.

Jake Seresin.

You smiled a soft smile to yourself watching him take the beers back to his buddy. You liked the name. You liked him. You hadn’t spoken two words to him, but you had a crush.

Working with your aunt was already a fun kind of chaos, but you became downright eager to get to work for the chance you might see him.

When he was there? Your heart was in your throat as soon as he walked in. He’d take his sunglasses off and neatly hook them in the v of his shirt. The charisma that oozed from him sent electricity into your heart. The highest peak of a thrill was when he got close to the bar to make his order. You could hear his voice and you tried to be casual while he waited for Penny to hand him his drink.

It wasn’t long before Penny caught on. You were bummed on the nights he didn’t come in. And she saw how you lit up when he walked through the door no matter how much you tried to hide it.

That’s when she began to meddle. Only a little of course. But she saw something that you hadn’t. She’d seen Jake’s quick glances in your direction. She was surprised he didn’t say anything at first. He was usually quick on the draw to talk to a cutie.

She’d get to the bottom of it.

The first chance arose when he came in one night. You couldn’t help but smile a little when he came in. He was alone tonight but he didn’t seem to mind. He liked the atmosphere. The bar would be full of pilots soon and locals, and that energy was something he loved.

He headed straight for the bar, and you could feel your heart pounding harder and harder with each step he made. Suddenly the glass in your hand really, really needed to be dried off. You saw him quickly put his sunglasses on his shirt, and you made eye contact with him right has he did his little toothpick trick in his mouth. You know your eyes must have widened when his smile did.

Yeah, this glass really needs to be dry. This one in particular.

His Texas accent came out heavy when he asked Penny for a drink. She poured it but then handed it to you.

“Give this to Jake, will you? I gotta get this.” And before you could blink, his drink was thrust in your hand, and she was answering her phone. You didn’t have time to think that this was an obvious set up because the panic had set in that you had to hand this to him.

Jake was standing on the other side of the bar, waiting. His smile was growing. If you didn’t know any better, he was enjoying the flustered look on your face.

“Hi,” he said stretching out his hand to reach for his drink.

“Hi,” you answered back, breaking into a shy smile. You met him halfway to put the drink in his hand. His fingers touched yours in the exchange and you felt warmth grow on your skin.

“Jake,” he said as he grabbed the glass in his other hand and reached for you with his right.

You gave your name and took his hand. When your palms clasped, he squeezed and gave you a little wink.

“I’ve seen you in here lately,” he continued, “nice to meet you.” Another wink.

You meekly pulled your hand from his, and he took his first sip of beer. His eyes on you the whole time. You think all the moisture in your mouth must have evaporated from the heat of his gaze.

He wandered over to the dartboard and started to play. You stood frozen where you stood, and a little nudge from Penny broke you out of your stupor.

“Everything ok?” You asked and started to dry a different glass this time, one that actually needed it.

She nodded with a slight knowing smile. She could see the look on your face. You knew she could, but you tried to hide it.

She actually did get a phone call. Normally she wouldn’t answer while working, but it gave her the perfect opportunity to nudge you towards that handsome pilot.

She’d get another chance to nudge that next afternoon.

The two of you were in the bar when she grabbed a notebook of things she was working on. You were wiping down a table, and she called your name.

“Let’s go outside for a bit,” she motioned out back. You shrugged and followed her outside.

The sky was golden. And you squinted a little as your eyes adjusted. Penny sat down, notebook in hand and began to write. Write what you didn’t know or care. Because when you saw the crowd of pilots on the beach your attention was drawn there.

You spotted Jake immediately. Most of the pilots had taken their shirts off, and you managed to catch him as he was pulling off his black tee. You panicked when his glance turned your way. The sunglasses on his face didn’t hide where he looked – at you.

You felt a bolt of lightning, and you almost dropped the drink you had in hand.

“Sit,” Penny smiled and gave you a knowing pat on the back.

You did sit, and you watched them play football on the beach. Your eyes trained on Jake. It gave you a thrill knowing that he knew you were watching. You knew he was a showoff, but you liked to think he did really want you out there.

They weren’t close enough for you to tell exactly what was going on, and you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You could hear the occasional tweet from the whistle and the general chaos of yelling when someone scored.

At one point, you saw Maverick wave at Penny, and you smiled. You loved seeing their little interactions.

When the sun started to set, the game was coming to an end. The pilots dispersed; laughter rang out as the pockets of them split. But not Jake. He was headed right for the bar. His tee shirt in his hand, and you could see the sheen of sweat on his skin from where you sat. He got closer and you felt panic again.

You made up some excuse to go inside to Penny. And for the life of you – you don’t know why you did.

Not straying too far inside, you lingered by the door. You heard Jake walk up the steps and greet Penny.

“Where’d she go?” His voice muffled but you could still hear.

“Inside,” Penny nodded in the direction of the bar. “You better go in there and ask her out. Or I’ll set you up on a date with her myself.” Your heart jumped. There was a lump in your throat you couldn't swallow.

“But put your shirt on Jake, you’ll scare the girl to death.” You could hear the smile in her voice, and you didn’t stick by the door to hear what he said in return.

You headed for the bar, something safe to hide behind. Even though you wanted him to ask you out, it scared you to death. He made your knees weak, despite the thrill he gave you every time you saw him.

The back door creaked, and you felt sick and excited all at once. You glanced in that direction in time to see him pull his shirt on. It stuck to him, and he pinched some of the fabric in his fingers to pull it off his skin.

The blood pounding in your ears was loud, and it only grew as he got closer.

You were the only two people in the bar. You knew of course by now he was in there for you, and there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind now.

“Hi,” he said with the biggest grin you’d seen on him yet. He tacked on your name after his greeting, and you could’ve sworn that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you.

“Hi Jake,” you replied back, testing out his name on your lips. “Can I get you something?” You asked him with a smile, you wanted to see what he’d say back.

He leaned on the counter. He was close. You could smell the saltwater and sand on him.

“I don’t think it’s on tap,” he clicked his tongue.

“Oh?” you laughed softly, you know what he’s getting at. But you don’t dare stop him. You’ve been dying for him to flirt with you more, even if you weren’t sure what to do with his attention. “Try me?”

“Don’t suppose I could order a date with you? To go?”

“As luck would have it,” your face is warm, and you are beyond flustered but you find your words somehow. “We do have that, but only for you.”

“Is it available tonight?"

The smile on your face hurt your cheeks, and it matched his grin. Like before, he reached for you. Only this time you didn’t let go.

[stevie-petey]

episode four: dear billy

“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.” “Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed. You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”

Summary: steve almost hits lucas with a lamp, you try to trick your boyfriend into a gloomy arrangement, steve and nancy have a Talk, robin suddenly becomes an academic weapon, and max threatens legal action, gets really into hallmark cards, and levitating. all in that order.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, slight suicidal thoughts if u squint

Words: 11.7k

Before you swing in: hey gang !!! im back, wrote this severely hungover, and ive never been more excited to share a chapter with yall. dear billy is my favorite ep from season 4, the ending haunts me, so i hope i can haunt yall too <333 enjoy !

–

Max won’t wake up.

Your fingers grip harshly on her shoulders as you shake her. Her eyes remain vacant. There isn’t any life within them. “Max, wake up, please.”

Dustin grabs your arm, he’s never seen you so broken. “Y/N, you have to tell us what’s going on.”

“It’s–” your eyes sting with tears. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. You think you’ve bitten your tongue. “I-I can’t.”

You’ve forgotten how to speak, how to say anything other than Max’s name as you plead with her to come back to you. 

Steve’s hand finds your other arm. He’s trying to talk to you, telling you to steady your breathing. He tells you that you’re having a panic attack. He’s worried you’ll hurt Max or even yourself if you continue to thrash with blind fear. 

“Y/N, angel, I need you to listen to me, alright?” Steve’s breath hits your face, but you refuse to let go of Max. “We can’t help her if you’re panicking–” Suddenly, after an agonizing minute, Max breaks out of her trance. The sound of her sharp inhale echoes off the office walls. Immediately she collapses into your arms, she’s crying and hiccupping uneven breaths. 

“Y/N,” she shakes against you, you pull her even tighter into your chest. Her hands grab at your arms, your waist, anywhere they can reach. Almost as if she’s afraid you aren’t real. “Am I-am I awake?”

Your nose presses against her red hair, your arms tremble from how tightly you hold her. “You’re awake, this is real.” 

Dustin kneels next to you and Max. His tone is gentle, his eyes fill with concern. “Why wouldn’t any of this be real?”

Max pulls her face away from your body, her eyes look up at you. She’s looking for the answers you don’t have. Her eyes are still frightened, wild with fear. Her body stands on edge. Her spine stiff, her skin cold. Placing a soft hand over hers, you answer for her. “She had a vision.”

Steve’s breathing stutters, Dustin lets out a quiet curse. Max slowly starts to remove herself from you, although her hand never leaves yours. She stands up, albeit with some difficulty, and she tries to wipe away her tears. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur to her, easing her distress. You feel as if you’re talking to an injured animal. “Let’s start with telling us what you saw. Can you do that?”

Max jerks her head, nodding. With Steve’s help, she’s able to take uncertain steps out of the office. She quietly instructs him on where to guide her. He’s careful with her, he takes his time helping her. Dustin walks next to you, his own arm extended towards you to help, but you gently decline him. 

At the end of the hallway, Max points her flashlight against the wall. “Here.”

“What was here?” Steve asks.

“A grandfather clock. It was ticking, over and over, but it,” her voice catches on fresh tears. “It isn’t here.”

Dustin looks at you, raising his eyebrows to silently ask you if you understand what Max is saying. You shake your head. There was nothing about a grandfather clock in the files you read, but it’s a detail that you can’t overlook. There has to be a reason she saw it.

Doors burst open behind you, disrupting the quiet of the night. You spin around in alarm, hand finding your knives, but you relax when you recognize the squeak of Robin’s sneakers and the click of Nancy’s heels. 

“What’s going on?” Nancy takes in the scene before her. You’re all standing against the wall, flashlights illuminating it. Fresh tears stain your face and Max’s. 

“Max, she…” Dustin sighs. He hates not having all the answers. There’s an unease that comes with not knowing. He’s spent his entire life trying to outrun it. “She saw something. A grandfather clock, I guess.”

“It was here. Right here,” Max insists, frustration in her voice.

Nancy tilts her head. “A grandfather clock?”

“It was so real.” 

You step closer to Max, your hand finding her shoulder once more. She doesn’t have to explain anything else. It’s clearly hurting her too much to do so. “Hey, you don’t have to give us all the details–”

“When I got closer, suddenly I just…” She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t listen. “I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a-a trance or something.” Dustin mumbles, before he remembers something. “It was exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

Unease settles over the group. Eddie had been telling the truth. If there was any doubt remaining of his innocence, there’s none left now. Slowly, you watch as everyone pieces together what you and Max already know. One by one, the light in their eyes dims; Steve’s finds yours. 

The look in his eyes shatters you. The brown is coated with anguish, he’s already mourning you. He doesn’t like where this is going.

You look away. 

Max turns, her breathing quickens. Dried tears still mark her face. She looks at you, silently asking how much she should tell the others. You’re a part of this, too. It isn’t just her life in their hands. She’s giving you the choice to run, to pretend that everything is fine. To continue what you’ve been doing since senior year started. 

She wouldn’t blame you, and you know this. 

But you can’t run. Not this time. Not when Max needs you, not if somehow you can figure out a way to make sure that she survives. 

You nod at Max. 

She inhales, prepares for impact. “That’s not even the bad part.”

– 

Everyone crowds around Ms. Kelly’s office. No one dares to turn the light on. A part of you wonders if this is done consciously, if the light would make everything more real. 

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelly for help.” Max explains to Robin and Nancy, informing them of what you found. Nancy reads over the files, Robin’s eyes don’t leave your body. “Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then…”

“The nightmares.” You continue, gaze not meeting anyone. You stare at the wall ahead of you. There isn’t any emotion in your voice. “Trouble falling asleep, staying asleep.”

Steve tries to get you to look at him. He remembers all the late night phone calls. He’d noticed you wince earlier in the trailer park, how you rubbed your temples and told him it was nothing. His mouth goes dry with every little detail he once dismissed. 

“And then they started seeing things,” Max doesn’t look at anyone either. Her voice shakes, she tries to hide the tears that don’t seem to go away. You grab her hand. It’s the only indication that you’re still with her, still listening. “Bad things, from their past.”

Dustin shifts uncomfortably. Last week he’d woken up to you screaming Billy’s name. He had ignored it. 

“These visions, they just kept getting worse and worse, until eventually…” Max pauses, the words refuse to come out. Her body freezes up, her stomach clenches. 

“Max,” you whisper, only it’s spoken as a promise. As a reassurance. 

She inhales again, squeezes your hand so tight that it cuts off the circulation, but you don’t let go of her. “Until eventually… everything ended.” 

Robin sees your hand in Max’s. She notes the way it’s held with an understanding, not with a condolence. She swallows. “Vecna’s curse.”

“Chrissy’s headaches started a week ago. Fred’s six days ago.” The air in the room builds into a dull roar. No one moves. Time stills. Max takes another shaky breath. Thunder has sounded, lightning is about to strike. “I’ve been having them for five days.”

Even though you knew what she was going to say, hearing the words come out of Max’s mouth chokes you. The panic from earlier returns. The frantic need to protect her, to pull her into your arms and never let go of her. 

“My headaches started two days ago,” your voice is barely above a whisper. It feels more like a confession of a sin, rather than a confession of weakness. “The night of Lucas’ game.”

The moment you’ve revealed this, Steve and Dustin simultaneously whip their heads up to look at you. Panic shadows their faces, the two of them rush towards you and nearly topple over the other to get to you. 

“No, something isn’t right.” Steve’s in denial. He doesn’t want to believe it. Neither do you. 

Dustin grabs your face, he pulls it down so he can get a better look at your eyes. “You could be dehydrated, or-or tired. Headaches are caused by a lot of things. You’re pale, you’re probably sick and this is all just conspiracy bullshit and–”

“Dustin,” you loosen his grip on you, trying your best to sound as gentle as you can. “You know it isn’t conspiracy bullshit.” His eyes wet with tears, for once in your life you don’t know how to protect him. You choke on your own tears again, breaking. “I-I’m fine, alright? We need to focus on Max right now, she’s the one who had the vision.”

“But you have all the symptoms, too!” Steve exclaims, too scared to look away from you. He can’t believe you’re saying this. He’s always known how selfless you are, but you’re in danger. You could die. Why don’t you care?

Max angrily wipes at her face. She hates that you’re already putting her ahead of yourself. She doesn’t deserve the kindness, the sacrifices you’re already making. “Look, we don’t know how much time we have to argue about this. All we know is that for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision, and I just saw that goddamn clock.”

“Max,” you break away from your brother and try to reach for the girl, but she’s crying again and anger clouds her vision. “Whatever you’re thinking, I promise that–”

“I’m going to die tomorrow, Y/N!” She cries out, too tired and devastated for your reassurance. 

You tug at her jacket. “You’re not dying tomorrow.”

None of this is fair. Max is too young, she’s been through too much, she’s survived too much to be manipulated like this. To have her life taken away too easily. It should’ve been you. Vecna should’ve targeted you instead of Max. He should’ve shown you the vision, cursed you before her.

Anything to keep Max alive. 

She’s about to argue with you, she knows what you’re implying, but a creak down the hall alerts you that there’s something nearby. Everyone turns towards the source of the sound, the heightened energy in the room leaves you all on edge. 

“Stay here,” Steve instructs the group, already stalking towards the door to find where the sound came from. 

You roll your eyes at him, grabbing his arm before he can leave. He’s an idiot if he thinks you won’t follow after him, fight by his side. “We’re both going.” 

Steve narrows his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods reluctantly and points towards your knives. Understanding, you flick your wrist and extend the blades. He nods, satisfied, before he grabs a lamp from the corner and holds it up with pride. The lamp clatters loudly, it’s a stupid weapon, but you suppose it’ll have to do.

Together, the two of you slowly exit the room and creep into the hallway. The school is terrifying at night, the empty halls eerie. You walk side by side while the others trail quietly behind. The sound of footsteps rush towards you, getting louder and louder with every step.

Steve looks at you, raising his lamp to his head, and you raise your knives. You plant your feet on the ground, you brace for whatever is about to round the corner. 

A figure emerges, screaming when it nearly runs into you and Steve. The person screeches, cowering, and your knives nearly come down upon a frightened Lucas. Your arm freezes, scream dying in your throat when you realize there isn’t any danger. “Jesus fuck, Sinclair!”

The boy holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s me!”

Steve clutches his chest, pressed against you after jumping into your arms when Lucas appeared. It hadn’t been his manliest moment, he’ll admit. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas pants, and it’s then that you notice he’s drenched in sweat.

“I nearly stabbed you!” You exclaim, feeling horrendously guilty.

Steve sputters. “Even more importantly, I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“Oh, sure. The lamp definitely would’ve helped.” You mutter sarcastically, but Steve is too busy still trying to steady his heartbeat to care.

Lucas apologizes again, hunched over his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “I was biking for eight miles.” He holds a finger up, winces in pain. “Give me a second. Shit.”

Everyone looks at each other, bewildered by Lucas’ sudden appearance. Your worry grows, he’d mentioned earlier how there was something bad happening, you’d heard Jason over the radio. Cautiously you step towards him. “Please tell me you biked eight miles for fun.”

Lucas shakes his head. “We’ve got a code red.”

Your heart drops. “It’s Jason, isn’t it?”

“How do you always do that?” He wheezes, somehow still surprised when you figure everything out first. It’s what you’ve always done. He’s never been able to hide anything from you. Seeing your pointed look to cut to the chase, Lucas turns to your brother. “Dustin, she’s right. I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone totally off the rails.”

He explains the basketball team’s plan to hunt Eddie down and make him pay for what they think he did to Chrissy. When Lucas mentions how Jason is looking for Dustin now because he’s in Hellfire, all you see is red. 

“I’ll kill him,” you hiss, fingers scratching over the engraving on your knife hilt. An old nickname resides there, a remnant from an old man who told you to use the weapon with love. 

“Y/N, while I’m flattered you’d kill for me, we kinda have bigger problems than Jason now.” Dustin says nervously, turning towards Max. The reminder stabs at your skin, reignites the bitterness and remorse.

Lucas looks between you and the girl, finally realizing how quiet everyone else has been. His head turns to you for some sort of explanation, it’s instinctual within him now to go to you for advice, solace and comfort. It’s what he’s grown up doing.

Except for the first time in Lucas’ life, your eyes don’t meet his.

Max stands apart from everyone. Her eyes don’t meet his, either.

Lucas had biked all this way to save his friends. He thought the biggest monster he’d have to face was Jason and the team. He didn’t think he’d be walking into the final hours of the two girls he loves more than anything. 

– 

Nancy offers you and Max her house to stay in. Neither of you can stomach the thought of going home, facing your mothers with the knowledge that they might lose their daughters soon. 

Dustin, Steve, and Robin refuse to leave your side. Lucas refuses to leave Max’s.

The seven of you stand awkwardly in the Wheeler’s kitchen as Nancy asks her mother permission to have you all spend the night. Her mothers greets you all kindly as she always does, albeit confused as to why half of Hawkins is spending the night at her house. “I mean, do we have the room, Nance?”

“We’ll all fit in the basement.” Nancy reassures. “We just figured it’s safer this way, sticking together.”

Mrs. Wheeler coos with sentiment and relaxes her shoulders. “Oh, alright. It’s scary, what’s happening out there right now. I understand.”

You give a weak smile to her. “We really appreciate your hospitality, Mrs. Wheeler.”

She smiles back at you and gently ushers everyone downstairs. As you descend the steps, you realize that she’s right. It’ll be a tight fit with everyone, the couch is barely large enough to comfortably sit three people. 

But the smell of the basement is familiar, earthy and safe. It’s been a long time since you’ve been down here. You used to spend countless nights in the basement ever since you were twelve. The boys always insisted you join their campaigns. You’d always drag Jonathan with you. There’s so much laughter within these walls, tears and the hardships of growing up. 

“Where are we all gonna fit?” Dustin sits down on the couch, eyeing the space around him.

Conversation breaks out as the sleeping arrangements are assigned. It’s nearly a heated debate, no one wants to be separated from you and Max. The girl stands off in the corner, barely listening, and you can’t help but do the same. As Dustin and Robin bicker over who gets to sleep on the couch, you use the distraction as an opportunity to slip away upstairs. 

The night air is cool against your cheeks as you sit on the Wheeler’s porch. The quiet is welcomed, your body aches with the need to have a moment to yourself. You don’t know how late it is, you wonder if your mother is asleep right now. Dustin had called her when you arrived at the Wheeler’s. He had given her the same excuse you’d given Mrs. Wheeler about wanting to stick together in a group. 

You wonder if your death will be what finally breaks your mother. The heartbreak of the divorce had weakened her, the death of her daughter would kill her. But Dustin will need his mother; he can’t grieve you alone.

With everything going on, all the revelations and despair, you haven’t had the time to properly come to terms with what’s happening; the weight of it sits deep within your chest.

The target on Max, on you. 

Steve finds you on the porch with your knees curled into your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. His heart tightens at the sight. Slowly, he sits down next to you. The warmth of his body simmers your skin, his presence quells the dull roar inside you. 

Your head falls against his shoulder. It’s quiet between you. All there seems to be these days between you and Steve is silence.

Fireflies flicker in the distance. You close your eyes, pretending they’re shooting stars, and wish for the end to be kind to you. 

“Remember the last time we were on the Wheeler’s porch together?” Steve whispers into the quiet of the night. You shake your head against him. He grabs your hand, plays with your fingers as he watches the fireflies. “Almost four years ago I found you here while I was looking for Nance. You’d been looking for Jonathan, but you tried lying about it.”

You manage a small laugh, remembering faintly the night he’s referring to. Hearing the laugh, Steve feels just a little bit stronger, more grounded. He continues. “You’ve never been a very good liar.”

“No,” you agree.

“That night… well, it was awful.” Faint bitterness leaks into Steve’s words. He remembers how hurt he’d been, finding Nancy wrapped around Jonathan. His girl underneath the creep’s arm. He remembers the anger that quickly followed, how heavily it consumed him. “Thought I’d been cheated on, and it was a pretty shitty feeling.”

Your finger skims over his knuckles. There’s a faint scar on them from his fight with Jonathan. You remember the anger from that night, too. The violence that followed it. You’re not sure why Steve’s is telling you all of this, though. 

“Nancy never did cheat on you, you know.” You softly remind him.

Steve chuckles, pulls you closer into his side. “I know that now. But that night, it just-it really fucking hurt, you know? Thought I’d never feel anything shittier, that my night couldn’t get any worse. But then… I saw your face.”

He swallows, shivers at the feeling of your fingers tracing his scars. “When I saw you standing there, all alone, the way your face fell when I told you about Jonathan,” Steve shakes his head. “The heartbreak on your face, that fact that I couldn’t do anything to protect you from it. That’s what hurt me the most.”

A heartbeat of silence, it almost deafens you, before he finally says, “And it’s why I won’t let anything else happen to you.” 

Your heart constricts at Steve’s promise. You know he means it, that he’ll die defending his oath, and that’s what terrifies you the most out of everything that’s happened tonight. 

Steve and Dustin will do whatever they can to keep you safe. They don’t want to lose you, they can’t lose you. They’ll burn themselves up if it means you’ll survive, but you don’t want them to. You don’t want any of this. 

All you want is for Max to survive. 

“Steve,” your head lifts up, he turns to look at you. Meeting his eyes, all you see within the brown is grief. It’s a funny thing, feeling someone’s grief for you within their gaze; it burns. “You have to protect Max.”

“Y/N–”

“No, you-you have to promise me, alright?” Your hand rests against Steve’s chest, he tries to cave into you but you won’t allow him any closer. Not like this, not when you need him to make a promise you know he can’t keep. 

Steve presses his head against yours and he breathes you in. He’s shaking against you. “I don’t…. I don’t know what you want from me.” He’d do anything for you. Whatever you ask of him, he’ll do it. 

“Promise me that if it–” your breath catches, your lips quiver with hesitancy. It isn’t fair, none of this is fucking fair. “Promise me that if it comes down to me or Max, you’ll choose her.”

Steve’s body retracts from yours as if he’s been stung. His heart is racing, a roar deafens his ears. He can’t breathe, his eyes can’t leave yours, he doesn’t know what to do. You’ve already given up. You’ve already decided to give your life in exchange for Max’s, and Steve doesn’t know what to do.

He’s never been able to say no to you. 

“Angel,” the cry is so soft, so heartbroken, that for a moment your resolve slips. You almost reach towards Steve, caress his cheek and apologize over and over again for making him do this. Your lips can feel his skin against them, but you don’t press against it; you don’t allow yourself to.

“Please,” You’re crying. The tears fall freely down your face, too tired to stop them. All day you’ve held them in, put up a front for your brother and Max. They can’t know how terrified you are. They need you, they can’t see you like this, but here, alone with Steve, you finally break. 

Seeing your tears, Steve finally wraps his arms around your body and just holds you. You cry for a long, long time. Everything comes out, then. The anger, always within you, that threatens to boil over, the heartbreak of losing Jonathan, the guilt of leaving Dustin behind soon, how the guilt intensifies when you think about letting Max die instead. 

You’ve been here before. 

“I’m choosing you, Y/N.” Steve whispers, lips pressed softly against your hair. Your body stiffens, he feels it, but he holds you tighter instead. “I’ll always choose you.”

“Steve…”

“Please don’t make me say no to you.” He pulls away, grabs your face and makes you look at him. You’re pale, tears wet your lovely face, and all Steve wants to do is fall asleep with you forever. He strokes the crest of your eyebrow, kisses your forehead. “Please don’t make me lose you.”

There’s more Steve wants to say. He wants to refuse you, he wants to scream, he wants to demand an explanation from you. There’s a mark on you that he would give anything to erase. How could you possibly think Steve could ever make a promise like that? To agree to let you die, as if your life isn’t worth everything to him.

The anger in Steve’s eyes startle you. His voice is frail, his body weak, but his eyes are alive with a deep fury as he looks at you. Pleads with you. The anger closes your throat, renders you speechless. 

You know that there’s nothing you can say that will change Steve’s mind. You’ve come to a stalemate. A tie between two ends of desperate halves. 

“I’m tired,” your voice cracks. It’s the closest you’ll come to admitting anything else. Another headache is forming, all you want to do is sleep in Steve’s arms. “Can we go to bed, please?”

I don’t want to fight anymore. 

Steve can see the weight of exhaustion that crushes you, and he sighs, nodding. “Yeah, angel. Whatever you want. I convinced Robin to give us the couch.”

I’ll do whatever you want, as long as I get to hold you in the end.

You nod back at him. The unspoken words settle between you, they linger in the shadows, but for tonight they’re put to rest. Lifting your arms up, you silently demand to be carried, and Steve can’t help but laugh softly. He stands up, bends down to scoop you up, and carries you back inside the Wheeler home. 

The basement couch is small, the two of you hardly fit, but neither of you mind. It’s an excuse to be as close as possible, a reason to tuck your chin into the crevice of Steve’s neck, absolving him to wrap his arms around you, as if he can shield you from the horrors that will come.

– 

Steve wakes up to whispering.

His eyes blearily open, his body twists in a sleepy haze. He’d been having a good dream. You were in it, you were laughing in his ear. It’d been a warm, spring day. Just the two of you. But he’s awake now, and when he looks down he finds you sound asleep on his chest. 

“Do you really think…?” Another whisper, and Steve squints against the dark to figure out who it is. Lucas and Dustin are snoring together on the ground. Max is in the armchair, her small frame wrapped around the cushioning. 

“I don’t know,” a different voice whispers, and this time Steve thinks it’s Robin. The dim lighting muddles away and he can see the outline of her nose. He thinks she’s talking to Nancy, she’s the only other person who could be awake right now. “But it’s Y/N, I-I’m worried, you know?”

Nancy nods. “She wouldn’t–” She pauses, sensing that someone is listening. Suddenly Steve can feel her eyes land on him. He’s been caught. 

Clearing her throat, Nancy excuses herself from Robin and walks towards the couch. She stops just out of Steve’s reach. He doesn’t move, his arms don’t leave your body. For a moment they stare at one another. Robin busies herself in the corner, leaving the two of them alone. 

Steve doesn’t remember the last time he was alone with Nancy. Her presence makes him uncomfortable, the history between them heavy. He still holds so much admiration and love for the girl, he always will, but he doesn’t know what to do with all the excess love now that they aren’t together. They never really got the chance to be friends, and it’s something Steve regrets every day.

He’s sure they would’ve been the best of friends. Maybe similar to you and Jonathan. 

The thought startles Steve, almost as much as the question that falls from Nancy’s pink lips. “How are you dealing with, you know…?” 

She motions softly towards you, still asleep. Your head is tucked against Steve’s neck and your breathing is steady. He rubs the length of your spine. He isn’t sure what to say to Nancy. How to answer her question in a way that won’t betray your trust. He knows what you’ve told him tonight was meant only for his ears.

But Steve is terrified of what you’ve revealed to him. 

“She wants us to focus on Max.” He finally whispers, the confession clings to his lips in deceit. “Not… not on her.”

Nancy nods, as if she was expecting Steve to say this. Her eyes harden slightly, though the crease between her brows soften with understanding. “Y/N already decided who we’ll save, hasn’t she?”

Steve swallows, he avoids her gaze. It’s all the confirmation Nancy needs. She nods again, she stares down at you and is struck by how young you look in the moonlight. She’s older than you by only a few months, and yet tonight Nancy feels as if there’s years that stretch between you. 

“She’ll try to sacrifice herself.” It isn’t a question, though Nancy still pauses as if to give Steve a moment to respond. They both know the answer. Anyone who has ever known you would know the answer. When Steve doesn’t say anything, she sighs. “I’m not surprised.”

You’ve always been so devoted to the ones you love. 

Nancy remembers the day she met you, how shy she’d been back then. There was a hardness within you, when you first moved to Hawkins, though Nancy never blamed you. Being twelve is difficult, and she saw the softness that was underneath the hard exterior that would one day resurface. 

When Mike was ten, a year after you entered his life, he broke his arm riding his bike. It’d been raining and his wheel caught on the curb. Nancy hadn’t been home at the time, spending the day at Barb’s. When she returned home to find you diligently wrapping his cast with plastic bags so that he could shower, Nancy was almost angry to see you taking such tender care of her brother. It was supposed to be her job. 

But the anger was gone the moment you smiled up at Nancy and asked if she’d like to help. You’d included her with such ease, made room for her where Nancy had thought there was none. 

For years this pattern followed. The boys adored you, you quickly became their favorite sibling out of the party. Often Nancy would find you in her basement, surrounded by the boys as you joined their campaigns or delivered them the cookies they always fought over. 

If one of them was sick, you’d spend hours by their side, spoon feeding them medicine. When Lucas chipped his front tooth, you were the first to react and call his parents to pick him up. When Will spilled water all over a drawing he’d spent weeks on, you helped him recreate the art piece. It’d taken you hours, but you never once complained. When Dustin lost his favorite model rocket, you biked two hours to find him a replacement. 

Over and over again you gave everything to everyone you’ve ever met. 

“She’s always been selfless. It’s what I admire the most about her.” Nancy says delicately. It’s the truth. For years she’s watched you, always at a distance. She’s never understood how you do it, how you can give so much of yourself to others without any cost. “But sometimes, I-I hate the selflessness as well.”

Because the cost has come; the cost will be your life for Max’s. 

Steve brushes a strand of hair from your face. Sometimes he hates how selfless you are, too. “I can’t lose her, Nance.”

The pained words litter papercuts into Nancy’s skin. She watches the way Steve’s fingers skim your face with gentle passivity. She’s never seen him so soft with anyone, not even when he was with her. The thought makes her stomach twist. 

Jonathan is soft with Nancy, he always has been. For the first time since he’s moved, she’s happy he’s in California. She doesn’t know what she’d do if he were here in Hawkins, marked by some creature in the Upside Down that wants to kill him. 

“I’m sorry,” Nancy breathes out. She can’t imagine what Steve’s going through, all the fear and guilt that must burden him. She wishes she could say something else, anything else, but what more can Nancy say? You could die soon. None of it is fair. 

Steve is quiet. He still doesn’t look at Nancy, he hardly even acknowledges her presence. She knows he doesn’t do this with malice. He’s overwhelmed, mourning someone who is still alive. Figuring he needs some space, Nancy tries to leave. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, I’m sorry Robin and I woke you up. Go back to sleep–

“I’d follow her to the end of the world if she asked me to.” Steve says, stroking your hair. “Even if that means fighting some asshole in the Upside Down, I will.”

The corners of Nancy’s mouth turn upwards, a small smile that she doesn’t bother to hide. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out, without going to the Upside Down. Stick to our own universe. I’m sure Y/N would agree with me.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, careful not to disturb you. “I’m sure she would.”

You stir in your sleep. Although you don’t wake up, Steve hums softly. It’s a melodic tune, one Nancy has never heard before, but he does it without thinking. His body eases into the song, your body relaxes again. 

“There you go,” he whispers into your ear, tightening his arms around you as you drift back to sleep. It’s an intimate moment, too intimate to watch. Nancy takes it as her cue to leave. 

“Goodnight, Steve.”

He smiles up at her, rests his head against yours. “Goodnight, Nance.”

– 

Dustin forgets how different he and Steve are. 

While he thinks the guy is cool and all, and he can’t deny how happy he makes you, Dustin could really do without Steve’s obsessive worrying. He’s constantly stressed about something, regardless of the situation. He’s all heart, always carried away by his instincts. Dustin is the opposite, he’s logical and uses reasoning to figure things out. 

Which means that all morning Dustin has been reading the newspaper printings that Nancy found. He’s been quietly taking notes on Victor Creel ever since the sun came up. He knows that if he does all the research, read in between the lines, that he’ll be able to save you. Dustin refuses to let you or Max die; he’s always been able to crack a complex problem. 

Meanwhile, all Steve has done is pace the floor, mumbling to himself, for hours. 

It’s driving Dustin insane. 

“It’s pretty straightforward.” He says to Steve, who still isn’t able to understand where Victor Creel falls into all of this. “Everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor; if anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.”

“Okay, I seriously don’t like talking about the whole ‘death’ part,” Steve rubs his eyes. He hates thinking about it, he hates how apathetic you were last night about sacrificing yourself. When you woke up this morning, you didn’t mention last night to him. Instead, you’d strayed towards Max and haven’t left her side since. “There being only one known survivor really doesn’t make me feel any better about Max and Y/N being cursed.”

He should be doing more. Steve knows he can do better, that he can find something if he just tries harder. Then, skimming the newspaper lines again, his eyebrows draw in. “Which is even assuming Victor was cursed. How can Vecna have even existed back in the ‘50s? It doesn’t make any sense.”

There’s too many unknowns. They drown Steve and pierce his skin. 

Dustin explains his theory about how El hadn’t really created the Upside Down but instead opened a gate to it. “I wouldn't be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.” 

Steve scoffs and Lucas drops his own print of the newspaper back onto the couch. “But if there wasn’t a gate in the ‘50s, how did Vecna get through?”

“And how is he getting through now?” Steve adds, nodding at the teen.

“And why now?”

“And why then?” Steve’s arms drop to his side, he’s getting worked up again. Nothing adds up. “Just pops out in the ‘50s, kills one family, and then just disappears, only to return 30 years later and start killing random teens? Targeting my girlfriend?” 

Dustin drops his head into his hands. His own head hurts, Steve admittedly brought up some good points. Still, he also doesn’t like the idea of Vecna marking you. “She’s my sister, you know. I could be an only child soon.”

“And yet you’re annoyingly calm about all of this,” sitting down, Steve crosses his legs and sends a pointed look Dustin’s way. “A little humility now and then wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time my sister gets cursed by some demonic being, I’ll sob on my hands and knees and get absolutely nothing done like you are!” 

Lucas shoves Dustin’s shoulder and motions over towards the corner desk where you and Max sit. “Would you two shut up? They’re gonna hear you.”

Dustin and Steve turn to where Lucas points, the anger in them dies out. All morning you’ve been with Max at the desk. The girl furiously scribbles on paper while you sit next to her, silent. 

Max hasn’t said anything for hours, but she also hasn’t asked you to leave her alone. You think she wants you close to her just as much as you want her close to you. The presence of the other is calming, even if you can’t bring yourself to ask what Max is writing. You’re afraid that you already know. 

“Did they sleep?” Dustin mumbles, noticing the slouch in your posture and the bags underneath your eyes. 

Lucas winces. “I mean, would you?”

“Y/N slept for a little bit last night, but…” Steve looks down at his hands. He’d woken up to you having a nightmare. It’d taken him nearly five minutes to calm you down afterwards. “It wasn’t enough.”

All three boys stare at you and Max. They don’t know what to do, they’ve never had to handle a loss like this before. A silence falls over them, but it’s soon broken by the sound of Nancy’s heels running down the stairs as Robin follows. 

“Okay, so.” She beams, so does Robin, and for a moment Steve is foolish enough to have hope. “We have a plan.”

– 

As always, Nancy’s plan is brilliant. It’s also extremely illegal, but you’ve come to accept this about the girl. You flit through the fake transcripts she’s presented you. “These are impressive, they look so real.”

Robin taps your nose. “Thank Nancy’s newspaper minions.”

“You think they could make me one?” You ask, eying the high GPA Nancy and Robin allegedly have and their years of research expertise. “Might need it for grad school.”

“Why would you even need one? Nance and I are now rock-star psychology students at Notre Dame. We can just write you a killer recommendation letter as Ruth and Rose.”

You tilt your head at Nancy, a teasing smile on your face. “I take it you’re Ruth, huh?” She shrugs, smiling as well. Your eyes catch on the area of research on the transcripts, and you snort. “Schizophrenia? Y’all couldn’t come up with something less on the nose?”

“You were asleep and it was all we could think of.” Nancy rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat, finally continuing with her explanation. “Anyways, we called Pennhurst Asylum and told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”

“And I’m sure they denied you.” Crossing your arms, you lean against the seat you share with Steve. When Robin tells you that they did, you snort. “I would’ve warned you had I known. No way would an asylum let two random undergrads speak with a patient. It violates, like, every patient privacy law there is.”

Nancy crosses her own arms and smirks at you. “True, but we were able to land a three o’clock with the director.”

“I don’t know why I ever doubt you.” You amend, and Nancy laughs. Robin finishes explaining the plan and how they’ll try to charm the director to let them see Creel. Your eyes wander towards Max, who still sits at the desk as she writes. Sighing, you nod at Nancy. “It’s a risky plan that relies heavily on luck, but I think it’s worth it if it means we can get rid of Max’s curse.”

“And yours,” Nancy reminds you gently. 

You don’t look at her, pretending not to have heard. An awkward silence falls upon the group. Steve looks to Dustin for help, but the kid can only shrug. Not wanting to burn through the small hope he’s feeling, Steve clears his throat. “Well, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework and, um. Have some questions of our own.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas echoes. 

Nancy sighs. “So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers.”

“Maybe I can help,” you offer, looking between Nancy and Robin. “I mean, I’m kinda the only one here who understands psychology. I doubt either of you even know what the DSM stands for.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you. “Of course I know what it stands it, obviously it’s the diagnosed s’many m’people.” 

You throw a pen at the girl and she dodges, giggling. While the two of you bicker, Steve looks through the fake transcripts and quickly realizes something. “Wait a second, there’s only two in here. Where’s mine?”

Nancy squirms in her seat and avoids his eyes; Robin does the same. You tilt your head at Steve and narrow your own eyes. He recoils slightly, sensing that he’s upset you somehow. Before an argument can arise, Nancy claps her hands and stands up suddenly.

“Alright, I guess that’s settled, then.”

“No, no way is anything settled.” Steve stands up too, now following Nancy as she tries to flee upstairs. They’re gone within seconds, leaving you and Robin alone with the kids. 

Picking at your nails, you share a weary look with Robin. “Is it even worth following?”

“Probably not,” she knocks her shoulder against yours and motions for you to start walking up the basement steps. “But Steve will talk Nancy’s ears off if we don’t intervene.”

Knowing she’s right, you tell Dustin and the others to stay in the basement while you try to talk some sense into your boyfriend. The boys snicker at this, though Max is still writing in the corner. Following Robin upstairs, you can hear Steve’s whining long before you get to Nancy’s room.

“Nancy, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m babysitting, again.” 

You try really hard not to take offense to this. Steve is being exceptionally difficult this morning and you’re slightly pissed off that he seems so butthurt over Nancy not wanting him to tag along. You’re the one who is cursed and in danger. You need Steve right now. Not her.

Faintly, in the back of your mind you wonder if all this anger within you has something to do with Vecna. The jealous vitriol is foreign, the insecurity that follows it is disarming. You’ve been hurt before, you’ve felt anger before, but never like this.

“Nice to know that you view staying with your endangered girlfriend as babysitting, Steve.” You say as you walk through Nancy’s doorway, highly unamused. 

He spins around and nearly chokes when he sees you. “Okay, no. That’s not at all how I meant. I-I just mean–”

“Oh my God,” Robin bursts into the room and immediately rushes towards something on the wall. “You have a Tom Cruise poster!” She admires it for a moment before realizing that this is Nancy’s room, and her interest grows. With a smirk, she turns to the girl. “Wait, you have a Tom Cruise poster. 

“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.”

“Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed.

You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”

“I never said that!” He shrieks, hands finding his hair as he tugs harshly at it. Everything is coming out wrong. Nothing he does is ever right. Isn’t that what his father always tells him? 

Panicked, Steve rushes towards you and grabs your hands. His eyes plead with you. “Angel, you gotta believe me, alright? I-I just don’t want to stand around while you’re in danger. I have to do something, and-and maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude, right?”

“Steve…” But he doesn’t hear you. 

“I don’t know, I could turn my-my charm on,” he rambles on, pulling you close and closer as he talks. “Just, please don’t think I want to leave you. God, I don’t. But I’m going crazy without answers and I–”

“Honey,” even though Nancy and Robin are watching, you grab the back of Steve’s neck and pull his head down into your neck. Your other hand wraps around his body, hugging him as tightly as you can. He’s spiraling, overthinking everything. “Breathe with me. Can you do that?”

He nods weakly, nose pressed to your skin. In and out he breathes with you. With every breath he exhales, your anger towards him dims. Steve had only been trying to help. That’s all he’s ever wanted to do for you; help you. 

“Now,” you gently pull away after his breathing has steadied. “While you’re charming, I doubt your charm will be what Nancy and Robin need.”

“Ouch,” he quietly says, a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Nancy tries to ease any remaining tension. “She’s right, Steve. I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar… If anything, we could use Y/N’s charm more.”

“Normally I’d love to win someone like Dr. Hatch over.” You admit, biting your lip. The man sounds incredible. You’d kill to meet him, to actually speak to someone so distinguished in the psychology field. There’s so many questions you have, hundreds of journals and published papers you’d love to ask him about. 

Then you remember Max’s messy handwriting and the exhaustion in her eyes. The tear marks on her face, how she hadn’t wanted you to leave her side all morning. You can’t possibly leave her right now.

“But I have to stay with Max.” 

Robin, Steve, and Nancy all look at one another. Their expressions are similar, yet unreadable. They’re in some unspoken agreement that you aren’t a part of. Your skin warms with discomfort. Without meaning to, you look towards Steve and silently beg him to stay with you. 

Everything is weird and scary and you’ve been marked by some goddamn monster from the Upside Down who wants you and Max to die. Every bone inside you leaks cortisol and your body drips acid terror. 

Yet the only thing you want right now is for Steve to be here, next to you, holding your hand through it all. 

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” He finally says, promising you. 

You release the breath you’d been holding. He exhales with you and your hand finds his. Lacing your fingers together, the pounding in your head quiets. 

“Not to ruin this lovely moment, but there’s a tiny ballerina in here.” Robin opens a jewelry box she found and it begins to play soft music. 

Nancy glares at her while you laugh. Steve rolls his eyes at his friend. “While I’m all for staying here, how are we going to turn ballerina girl over here into an academic scholar?”

“I might be able to give a brief overview of psychology to y’all?” You offer, but even you know that there wouldn’t be enough time. 

“Or, we could do this.” Nancy pulls a frilly, pink dress from her closet. It’s covered in ruffles and she holds it up, pointing towards Robin. Her eyebrows are raised in amusement, she barely hides her pleased snicker.

Robin stares at the dress, utterly speechless. “Oh, please tell me you’re joking.”

“It’s very… pink?” 

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“At least I tried.”

– 

After Nancy and Robin leave for Pennhurst, you find yourself pretending to read a comic while Lucas, Steve, and Dustin stare at you. They sit across from you on the basement couch while Max remains at the desk. 

You try to ignore them, but their beady little eyes make your skin crawl. When they aren’t staring at you, they’re staring at Max. You feel their eyes drift from you to her, over and over again. 

“Would you guys stop it?” You finally snap, slamming your comic down onto the coffee table.

The boys jump, all grabbing various items to try and appear nonchalant. Lucas holds a newspaper up and smiles awkwardly, Dustin yanks a book from the table and flips to a random page, and Steve tosses a baseball into the air as if he’d been doing so all along. They all look away, heads turned in opposite directions.

“What, did you say something?” Steve asks coyly. 

Max turns in her seat. “We know you guys are staring at us.”

“We’re just hanging out,” Steve tosses the ball again and Lucas nods. 

You roll your eyes at them. “Yeah, real convincing.”

“How you guys think your eyes boring into our skin is protecting Y/N and I from Vecna, I don’t know.” Max mumbles, collecting the paper she’s been writing on all morning. 

She walks over to the sitting area and you poke her shoulder playfully, hoping to get her to laugh. “Ignore them, they’re idiots.” When she stands before the boys and no one lifts their head to look at the two of you, you sigh. “Okay, now you’re taking this too literally.”

“You can look at us now.” Max says, to which all the boys sigh in relief. 

“Thank you,” Dustin breathes out while Steve and Lucas mutter quiet apologies. 

“Is there anything you need?” You ask the girl, noting that she’s carried her papers over to where everyone sits. 

Max nods, taking a deep breath, before extending her arm. “Yeah, I need you to take this.”

In her hand is an envelope with your name written on it. She gives one to Dustin, too. Then Lucas and Steve. The envelope is heavy in your hands. Though you suspected what Max had spent her morning doing, the reality of the goodbye letter in your hand makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, and um. Can you give these to Mike, El, and Will?” Max asks you, handing three additional letters to you. “If you can ever get a hold of them again.”

Your head moves numbly, you think you manage to nod. Nausea wracks your skull. 

Dustin goes to open his letter and Max quickly stops him. “Woah, hey. That’s not for now. Don’t open it now.”

Your brother raises his eyebrows but does as he’s told, putting the letter back in the envelope. He squints at Max, confused, and holds up his letter. “I’m sorry, what is this?” “It’s, um…” Max looks down, clearly uncomfortable. Her eyebrows pinch together and she can’t seem to say anything else.

“They’re goodbye letters.” You answer for her, staring down at your own letter. A part of you wants to burn it, to never read its content, but the other, smaller part of you wonders what she could’ve written for you. After all the times you’ve failed Max, you’re sure she struggled to say anything nice about you.

Steve makes a pained, surprised sound. “Goodbye letters?” “It’s more like a fail-safe. For after.” Max tries to amend, as if her explanation makes the bitter taste sting less. “If things don’t work out.”

Lucas sits up in alarm. “Max, things are gonna work out.”

“No!” She exclaims, angry. “No, I don’t need you to reassure me right now and tell me it’s all gonna work out.”

“But Max, we will figure it out, alright? We will, there isn’t any reason to not–”

“People have been telling me that everything will work out my entire life, Y/N!” Max cuts you off. Her cheeks are red, her body is stiff. “And it’s almost never true. It’s never true. I mean, of course this asshole curses me.”

Suddenly all the fight within her leaves. The hurt comes back, the fear. Max looks away in shame. “I mean, for Y/N it doesn’t make any sense. But for me? I should’ve seen that one coming.”

She stands in front of you with tears in her eyes. The deafening silence that follows haunts you. Lucas can’t speak, Dustin and Steve don’t know what to say. And you? All you can do is swallow back your own tears and remind yourself that you’re here for Max. That she needs you. 

“You aren’t being fair to yourself.” You say gently, reaching out to grab her hand; but she pulls away instead. You blink away your tears and move towards her, you want nothing more than to wrap her in your arms forever and never let go. “Max, I’m serious. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve half of what life has given you. I’m sorry that you’ve come to think otherwise.”

Max turns away as if she hadn’t heard you. Instead of responding, she turns around and walks towards a discarded table. Her eyes land on something. Picking it up, she holds up one of Dustin’s radios. “If we go to East Hawkins, will this reach Pennhurst?”

Dustin informs her that it will while Steve is hesitant. “Why are we talking about East Hawkins?”

Max stares at him, and at the same time, you and Steve realize what she’s asking: she wants to leave the Wheeler home. “No!” You both say, but Max is already grabbing her backpack and walkman. Cursing, you follow after her. 

“Max, wait!” She’s frustratingly fast and it isn’t until you’re outside that you catch up to her. Grabbing her arm, you force her to stop. “Hey, listen to me–’

“I’m not driving you anywhere.” Steve cuts through, frantic as well. Lucas and Dustin trail behind, not at all willing to argue with Max.

“If the two of you think I’m going to spend what is likely the last day of my life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind.” Max rips her arm from your grasp and marches towards Steve’s car. 

“If you would just listen, I can–” But again Max interrupts you.

“Either take me where I need to go or tie me down, which is technically kidnapping of a minor.”

Steve looks at you in bewilderment at what Max has said, but you’re too busy running after her and huffing with annoyance. “Steve has already kidnapped a minor, he’s a professional at this point.”

“Hey!”

Max continues towards the car. “Well then tell your boyfriend that if I live to see another day, I swear to God, I will prosecute.” She tries to open the door, but it’s locked. “Open the door.”

Steve looks at her as if she’s insane. “Uh, no.”

“I know a good lawyer.”

“Where the hell are you meeting good lawyers in Hawkins?” You shove yourself in between them and glare at Max. You shake your head at her. “Anyways, if you had stopped for five seconds, I would’ve told you that I agree with you and that I would talk to Steve for you.”

Max looks at you, surprised. “Wait, you’re freeing me?”

“Okay, the Wheeler basement isn’t a prison, but yes.” You turn to Steve, who has already started to protest. “And as for you, you’re going to do what Max says.”

“But–”

“No.”

“Y/N!” 

“Unlock the car, Steve.”

He stares at you. You stare back, standing your ground. Max crosses her arms and joins you, daring Steve to argue. He sees the tension in your jaw, the determined look in your eyes, and he throws his head back and groans. “God, I hate this.”

You smile at him evilly; you knew he’d give in. “Keys, please.”

Steve digs through his pocket and tosses the keys to you, annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

You unlock the door and beckon for Max to get in. She thanks you, and you wink at her. Skipping over to the passenger’s side, you get in with grand flourish, leaving Steve alone with the boys. 

Lucas smirks and Dustin outright laughs in Steve’s face. “Dude, she so owns you.”

“Zip it,” he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t at all have the energy for this. “Little Henderson, that super walkie of yours better reach Pennhurst.”

And with one last threatening glare at your brother, Steve finally gets into the car. The engine roars to life. Soon, the Wheeler’s home fades into the distance. 

– 

The air in the car is tense. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Max all sit in the back while you sit next to Steve. He’s playing one of his old mixes and the music is the only sound within the car. Max stares out the window, turned away from everyone. 

When Steve pulls up in front of her trailer, he parks the car and faces her. “This better be fast, Mayfield.” “Steve!” You hit his arm, berating him. “She’s here for her mother.” “It’s fine, Y/N.” Max unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out. “I’ll be twenty seconds.”

The door slams and you pull out your own walkman. You’re anxious, being alone with the boys. You know they want to ask you a million questions, but for the first time in your life, you don’t think you have it in you to lie to them for their own comfort. 

Before you can hit play on Jonathan’s mixtape, you feel multiple pairs of eyes on you. Looking up, you find that you’re once again being stared at by Steve, Dustin, and Lucas. “What?”

Your brother clears his throat. “No, uh. Visions yet?”

“No, Dustin.” Though you both know that if it did happen, you wouldn’t tell him. Putting on your headphones, you push play and allow the music to slowly creep over you. The conversation ends there.

Steve says something to Dustin, you don’t hear nor pay attention to it. The Beatles sing and you can finally breathe. You miss Jonathan more than anything, but the pain of missing him is now tainted with the ache of guilt. 

After a few minutes, unable to sit still, you all stand outside Steve’s car and wait. Your foot taps the ground and Steve checks his watch every few seconds. When you see Max round the corner, you sigh with relief.

“Hey, that was longer than twenty seconds.” Steve says, relief flooding his own voice.

You’re about to tease her, but then you realize how pale she is. She doesn’t look good, her breathing is irregular and she’s fighting back tears. Worried, you try to stop her. “Woah, what happened? Are you okay?”

Only Max storms past you and flings herself into the car. “I’m fine, just drive.”

“Is she…?” Steve looks at you helplessly. He doesn’t know what the right call here is. Max is clearly upset about something, she’s visibly shaking, and yet she still insists on pretending that she’s fine. 

All you can do is shake your head at Steve, just as helpless. “I don’t know, but we just… We have to be there for her.”

He nods solemnly before getting back into the car. Before he drives away, Lucas asks Max if something happened, and again she lies through her teeth. You try to catch her eye in the rearview mirror, but she adamantly stares out the window once more. 

Soon the only sound in the car is Max giving quiet directions. With every instruction she gives Steve, the more the string in your chest constricts. You’re going deeper and deeper into west Hawkins. It’s mostly woods, Hopper’s cabin is close by. 

It’s also where the cemetery resides. 

“Turn here.”

Dustin looks at Max, reluctant. “Here?”

She nods as the Roane Hill Cemetery sign greets everyone. Steve inhales deeply, but he doesn’t say anything as he turns. You grip the edge of the seat, bile rising in your throat. It’s been a long time since you’ve been here.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask Max, breathing through your nose to try and settle the ache in your stomach. 

She doesn’t acknowledge your question; she jumps out of the car as soon as it stops. Before you can run after her, Lucas is already scrambling to follow her. He chases after her, says something to her, but you can’t hear anything. 

“What’s going on, why did Max take us here?” Steve risks touching your arm, seeking any source of solace from you that he can. 

Your hands shake slightly. Steve can feel it, and he tightens his grip around you. He tries to get you to look at him, but you can’t face him. Not now. Not yet. Instead, you keep your eyes on Max. “This is where Billy is buried.”

Steve sucks in a breath and Dustin closes his eyes. Neither of them ask you how you know this. They didn’t attend his funeral, but you did. 

You’d held Max’s hand as Billy’s casket was lowered into the earth. 

You’re torn from your thoughts when Lucas comes back to the car. He’s upset. You look up and see Max walking towards the tombstones. There’s a letter in her hand. You know who it’s meant for. 

She’s gone for a while. The minutes go by with agonizing latency. Steve remains in the car, tapping his fingers against his window anxiously. His watch never leaves his line of sight. You stand next to Dustin outside, too nervous and overwhelmed to sit right now.

Lucas sits perched on the hood of the car. He stares straight ahead. Max is just barely visible over the hill. Her back is turned towards you, she faces a tombstone. It’s lighter than the others, not yet darkened by weather and age.

It’s Billy’s tombstone. 

The grief of losing a sibling is a chasm, endless and void of everything whole. Without thinking, you reach for Dustin’s hand. He lets you, squeezing your hand, as if thinking what you are. 

The rise and fall of Max’s shoulders tells you that she’s talking to someone. That she’s talking to him, and it’s almost too intimate of a moment to watch. You feel terribly guilty, but you also can’t look away. You’re terrified that if you do, she’ll somehow disappear. 

After nearly ten minutes, Steve glances down at his watch and curses. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”

He opens the car door and gets out, slamming it behind him. The action startles you, puts you on high alert. Lucas protests, insisting that you give Max more time, but Steve doesn’t listen. “I’m calling it. If she wants to get a lawyer, she can.”

“I’m coming with you,” breaking away from Dustin, you follow after Steve. You respect Max’s wishes, but he’s right. It’s been too long. Turning towards the other boys, you give them a weary look. “Stay here, please?”

Lucas doesn’t like this. “But–”

“We’ll be right back.” You promise him, running after Steve up the hill. 

He’s already reached the crest of the hill by the time you catch up. He jogs towards Max, whose back is pin straight. She’s eerily still, almost too still, and immediately you start to feel panic crawl up your neck. 

“Max, time to giddy up, yeah?” Steve stops in front of her, but the sincerity in his voice is quickly replaced with fear. Max’s eyes are rolled back, she doesn’t respond to any of Steve’s touches. He bends down, shakes her. “Max? Max!”

She’s in the same trance as last night. You drop down next to her, knees scraping against the grass below you. “Max, sweetheart.” Cupping her face, you gently try to bring her back to you, but she’s as cold as ice. 

“Max!” Steve claps his hands in front of her face. He’s yelling now, just as scared as you are. “Hey, wake up!”

“Max!” Over and over again her name rips from your mouth as tears coat your face. You scream and cry and shake her lifeless body, begging her to wake up. To say something, to smile at you, to argue with you and push you away. 

Anything. You’ll take anything. Just as long as she’s alive.

Steve shakes her shoulders almost as violently as you do. Choking on terror, you scream down to Lucas and Dustin. “Help! Help us!”

Your hands are joined by Lucas’. The two of you scream Max’s name. Vecna has her. You’ve failed, she’s going to die because of you. You hadn’t followed her, you should’ve made her stay with you back at Steve’s car. It’s your fault, it’s always your fault.

“Max, you gotta get out of there!” Lucas cries, gripping the girl’s skin harshly. But still she doesn’t respond. “Can you hear me?”

“Please.” Your voice is hoarse, you don’t even know what you’re pleading for. All you know is that Vecna has her, that Max is about to die. And you can’t do anything. 

Steve grabs Dustin’s jacket roughly and yanks him forward. “Call Nancy and Robin! Go get them, call them. Go.”

You watch as your brother falls, frantically picking himself back up as he runs down to where his radio is. You’re choking on your own breath, hyperventilating. Lucas’ screams deafen you, Steve’s pleas echo your own. It’s a grim, helpless situation.

Nancy and Robin have to know something. They’re the only option you have left. You can’t lose Max. You can’t fucking lose her. Not after everything. She’s too young. She’s too young. It should be you instead. 

“Take me,” you scream into the sky, voice cracking. The taste of blood fills your mouth. “Just-just take me! Leave her alone, I’m-I’m right here. Please.”

Steve’s grip on Max loosens slightly, he looks up at you, alarmed, but Dustin suddenly returns with an armful of cassettes and Max’s walkman. “Guys!”

He slides onto the ground, you quickly make room for him even though you have no idea why he’s brought all of Max’s music. “What-what are you doing?”

“What’s her favorite song?” Dustin demands, out of breath.

“Why?” Lucas doesn’t move.

“Robin said if she listens–” He stumbles over his words, his mind is all over the place. “It-it’s too much to explain now. What’s her favorite song?”

Dustin is screaming and in your blind fear, your mind can’t catch up. You can’t think of Max’s favorite song, you know everything about her. What her favorite color is, her favorite ice cream flavor, her deepest fear. And yet you don’t fucking know what her favorite song is.

“I–” You can’t breathe. You wrack your mind, you try to come up with something, anything. But you can’t. Steve and the others rustle through the cassettes, their voices overlap and everyone talks at once. 

“Lucas, which one is it?” Steve exclaims, flipping over the tapes in vain. “What's her favorite song?” 

Your mind goes back to winter. To when the cold burned your lungs and the snow quieted your fears. It was Christmas, Lucas had wanted you to check up on Max. He’d been worried about her. When you visited her, she’d had her walkman on, volume on the highest setting. 

You remember asking what she’d been listening to. It’d been an innocent question, then. Nothing more than a simple formality, a way to get Max to open up to you. Feel more calm around you. 

But now it could be what prevents you from losing Max forever.

“Kate Bush!” Screaming, you dig through the cassettes yourself. “Her favorite song is by Kate Bush.”

Lucas finds the only tape by her and he quickly removes it from its case. He screams at Steve to take it and hand it over to Dustin. They move in a blur, Dustin slides the headphones over Max’s ears and your finger presses play. 

Kate Bush’s voice erupts from the speakers. Max still doesn’t move, her eyes remain rolled back. But that’s it. The music is all you can do. 

Everyone shouts over the music, there isn’t anything else that can be done. Lucas holds her hand, he doesn’t let go of her. “Max, we’re right here!”

“Come back,” you cry, hands pressed against her face. “Sweetheart, Max–”

Her body begins to levitate. 

Your entire world collapses. 

“No!” You scream, vocal chords tearing. 

Your hands grasp at the air, you try to jump, you try to reach her. You try to do something, anything, to save her. Steve clutches you against him, holds you against his chest, scared you’ll hurt yourself. But you don’t care. Lucas screams behind you, Dustin cries for his friend. You throw yourself at Max, over and over again. 

But Max is just out of reach, dangerously high, and all you can do is watch. 

Her body constricts, her neck snaps back in a sickening manner. She starts to convulse, just how Billy did the night the Mind Flayer killed him. It’s happening again. All the air leaves your lungs. Max’s body dangles before you, taunts you.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, her body falls. You and Steve break her fall as she crumbles onto the grass, just barely managing to protect her head. “Max!”

She’s awake, gasping for air. Lucas cradles her body as she cries. She can’t speak, her hands clutch at any part of Lucas that she can reach. He pulls her close, his head rests against hers. He’s crying, too. “I thought we lost you.”

“I’m still-I’m still here,” Max chokes out. “I’m still here.”

“You’re never leaving.” You gasp out, holding her hand. She’s warm again. Her flesh doesn’t numb yours anymore. “I’m not-I’m not letting you leave us.”

Max cries, your promise heavy against her. You brush back her hair, your tears mix with hers. Steve’s arm wraps around you and Dustin’s head rests against your shoulder. You all hover over Max, almost as if instinctively shielding her.

She’s still here. 

The sun begins to set.

-

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[luvleyshif4]

for the arranged marriage i sort of pictured to be when cameron development isn’t doing as well and it’s sort of a hail mary for the camerons. like reader comes from a family where her parents have passed she lives with her grandfather( who is a kook and very traditional). readers family is really interested in marrying the camerons for social currency where the cameron’s sort of need it for like stability b/c the public doesn’t know the company isn’t doing as well. idk if this makes sense i feel like i’m just rambling 😭

HAIL MARY

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage trope, Power dynamics, Mild alcohol use, Family expectations, Parental pressure, miscommunication, slight angst to fluff

Word Count: 1.74k words

Authors Note: HEYY!! bb you’re not rambling at all I instantly understood what you wanted but it still took me a while cause this was kinda new and different for me to write so if it’s not up to your expectations please lemme know!! I tried my best to bring your idea to life and I tried to keep it as a one shot but lemme know if yall want a part 2 and how yall want it to be 😘😘

The wedding was perfect on the surface. Gilded edges on the invitation cards, a floral arrangement that screamed wealth, and guests dressed to the nines.

Your grandfather beamed with pride, his weathered hands gripping your arm as he walked you down the aisle. Rafe stood at the altar, his expression unreadable, though his posture was impeccable. He looked good in his tailored suit—too good. The kind of good that made you resent him a little, because he seemed untouched by the weight of what this marriage meant.

To the guests, this was a union of two prestigious Kook families. But you and Rafe knew the truth. Cameron Development needed the stability your family’s name could bring, and your grandfather sought to tie your future to theirs in a calculated move for relevance.

As you recited your vows, your voice steady despite the storm inside you, Rafe’s gaze met yours. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw something—hesitation, vulnerability, or maybe even guilt.

But then it was gone, replaced by the practiced charm of a man who knew how to play his part.

When the officiant pronounced you husband and wife, Rafe leaned in, brushing a featherlight kiss on your cheek instead of your lips.

Polite. Distant. Just enough to make the crowd cheer.

~~~

You awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the massive windows of the Cameron estate. The bed was cold beside you; Rafe hadn’t spent the night.

Not that you expected him to.

You sighed, slipping out of bed and wrapping a silk robe around yourself. The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt oppressive. You padded down to the kitchen, where Rose was already bustling about, her morning routine as polished as ever.

“Oh, good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted, her smile a little too bright. “How was your first night?”

You hesitated, not wanting to admit that it had been lonely. “It was fine,” you said instead, grabbing a glass of water.

Before Rose could probe further, Rafe strolled in, looking effortlessly put-together despite the early hour.

“Sleep well?” he asked, his tone light but devoid of real interest as he turned to you.

“Like a dream,” you replied dryly.

Rafe smirked, clearly catching your sarcasm. But instead of biting back, he gestured toward the doorway. “Walk with me?”

~~~

The two of you wandered down to the beach, the ocean breeze ruffling Rafe’s perfectly styled hair. You stayed a step behind him, unsure what this was supposed to be.

“So,” he began, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You hate this as much as I do?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. “I wouldn’t say I hate it,” you replied carefully. “But it’s not exactly what I imagined for my life.”

Rafe nodded, kicking at a pebble. “Yeah, me neither.”

For a moment, the only sound was the crash of waves against the shore.

“Look,” Rafe said finally, turning to face you. “I know this isn’t ideal, but we’re stuck with it. So, maybe we should try to make it… less miserable?”

You crossed your arms, eyeing him skeptically. “How do you suggest we do that?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging. “We could start by not pretending to hate each other.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t hate you, Rafe. I just don’t know you.”

His smirk faltered, and for once, he looked almost vulnerable. “Fair enough,” he said. “Guess we’ll have to fix that.”

~~~

Over the next few days, Rafe made an effort—or at least, he pretended to. He showed up to meals on time, asked you about your day, and even cracked a few jokes that made you laugh despite yourself.

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Rafe’s temper flared at the smallest things—a missed call from his dad, a deal that fell through—and you quickly learned to give him space when he needed it.

One evening, after yet another tense family dinner, you found him in the study, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“You know,” you said, leaning against the doorway, “if you keep brooding like that, people might think you actually care about something.”

Rafe looked up, his lips curving into a tired smile. “Funny.”

You stepped inside, sitting across from him. “Seriously, though. What’s wrong?”

He hesitated, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Just… the usual. My dad breathing down my neck, trying to keep everything from falling apart.”

You frowned. “You mean the company?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he didn’t answer. But his silence said enough.

“I’m not blind, Rafe,” you said softly. “I know why this marriage happened.”

He looked at you then, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. “And you’re okay with that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know if ‘okay’ is the right word. But I understand it.”

Rafe leaned back, studying you. “You’re not what I expected.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”

“Someone like my dad,” he admitted. “Cold, calculating. All business.”

You smiled faintly. “Well, sorry to disappoint.”

“Don’t be,” he said with a smile matching yours, his voice quieter. “It’s a good thing.”

~~~

The gala had been like every other event since your marriage, carefully orchestrated, polite smiles, and an unspoken agreement to keep up appearances. You played the part of the poised wife, and Rafe was the picture of composed charm. But tonight, something felt different. He was quieter, more distracted, his usual effortless confidence replaced with something… uncertain.

When the evening finally ended, Rafe lingered near the doorway as you said goodbye to the last guests. His gaze followed you, his jaw tight. You caught it in your periphery, but before you could ask, he motioned toward the garden.

“Come with me,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual edge.

You hesitated only for a moment before following him into the cool night air. The garden was bathed in soft moonlight, the distant sound of waves blending with the gentle rustle of leaves. It felt like a world away from the ballroom.

Rafe stopped abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He glanced at you, then quickly looked away, as though second-guessing why he’d brought you out here in the first place.

“What is it?” you asked, stepping closer, your arms brushing against each other.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His gaze flicked to the ground, then back to you. “I don’t really know,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I just… I needed to talk to you.”

“Okay,” you said gently, your heart fluttering at the vulnerability in his tone. “About what?”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “About us.”

The words hung between you, their weight undeniable.

“What about us?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.

“I don’t know,” he repeated, his shoulders tense. “This thing we have… this marriage… it’s not what I thought it’d be.” His voice wavered, the confidence you’d always associated with him nowhere to be found. “You’re not what I thought you’d be.” He said for the second time in your marriage.

“You already said that though,” you murmured, your voice steady.

“I know, I just…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as if searching for words that wouldn’t come. Silence hung between you, heavy and unfamiliar, until he finally exhaled sharply and looked away.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Well is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You said after a while.

“I think it’s a good thing,” he murmured, his eyes darting to yours before quickly looking away. “But it’s confusing….. You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle…. And I…i think about you more than I should. About us. What we are. What we could be.”

Your breath hitched. His honesty, his hesitance—it wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen from him. Slowly, you took a step closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Rafe….”

He laughed softly, a self-deprecating sound. “I don’t have any answers,” he admitted, his hand twitching at his side.

You reached out, your fingers brushing his arm, grounding him. “Then don’t overthink it,” you said.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to where your hand lingered, then back to your face. His eyes softened, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. He opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated.

“What?” you asked, stepping even closer.

He swallowed, his voice tentative, almost shy. “I want to…. Can I….” He said as his gaze fell on your lips….

As hesitant as he might have seemed, he sent your heart racing. You stared at him, his expression almost boyish in its uncertainty, and something in you broke.

“Please….” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of all the feelings you hadn’t caught on to yet, or hadn’t dared to name until now.

That one word was all it took. The hesitation melted from his face, replaced with something deeper, something more certain. His hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like he was still testing the waters. But as you kissed him back, all the tension, all the uncertainty, seemed to dissolve. His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened, taking on a desperate, unspoken intensity.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his lips hovered just a breath away. His hand still cradled your face, his thumb tracing soft patterns on your cheek.

“Was that okay?” he asked, his voice rough and uncertain again, though his lips quirked in a small, nervous smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief. “More than okay,” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of his blazer.

Rafe exhaled a laugh of his own, his tension finally breaking. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with something raw and unspoken.

“Wanna try again?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his smile more sure.

Your heart fluttered as you nodded with a shy smile.

“Please,” you said again, and this time, the word carried no hesitation.

He didn’t wait this time, capturing your lips with his again, and the kiss felt like a promise—a quiet, unspoken vow that things between you would never be the same.

[formulafics]

★ THE JPG CHRONICLES | PART 4

Scenario: in which the grid and fan favorite mclaren reserve driver opens a jpg account, but it isn’t what was expected. this time around, yn ln finally reveals who her boyfriend is.

Pairing: f1 grid x fem!reader

A/N: guys, we’ve made it to the last part of the jpg chronicles. i just want to thank everyone who’s followed along with this and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also paying homage to the pink and orange theme since all of the other parts use that!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

yn.jpg

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 245,678 others

yn.jpg VEGAS BABY ‼️ mom (my pr manager) said i can’t say what i want to say about the race. she also said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all…so anyways vegas is pretty cool race aside 🥰

view all 5,432 comments

yn.jpg shoutout to @/logansargeant for his first appearance on this account!

⤷ logansargeant thank you yn

⤷ yn.jpg your welcome!!

landonorris caption is real

norrisnation yn speaking for the lando girlies (gn) once again

rizzciardo LMFAO REFERRING TO YOUR PR MANAGER AS MOM

⤷ yn.jpg she is mother

alphatauritaurialpha yn this isn’t a bf reveal :/

⤷ yn.jpg babe i promise the bf reveal is coming. i have plans for it

⤷ piastrispastry YOU GOT CALLED BABE BY YN YOU WIN AT LIFE

racing.news

liked by ynln.official, pierregasly, landonorris, snd 56,782 others

racing.news sources say yn ln is ‘in trouble’ with mclaren team principal due to her second instagram account where she is notorious for posting funny pictures of her coworkers.

view all 2,347 comments

norrisnation so this is why she’s delaying the bf reveal

ynln.official HELP???? IM NOT IN TROUBLE WHAT 😭

mickshumacher @/ynln.official 😳

⤷ ynln.official mick do not feed into this madness you’re better than that

⤷ sunnyshumacher mick and yn may not be dating but i love their friendship so much LMAO

landonorris im crying this is so funny

⤷ ynln.official of course you’re here

mclaren can’t take her anywhere 🫣

⤷ ynln.official ENOUGH

rizzciardo YN IN THE COMMENTS IS SENDING ME THIS IS SO FUNNY

yn.jpg and yukitsunoda0511

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, fernandoalo_official, and 367,891 others

yn.jpg home is wherever he is. ❤️

view all 5,672 comments

yukitsunoda0511 i love you ❤️

⤷ yn.jpg I LOVE YOU

landonorris the day has finally come 🙏🏻

⤷ yn.jpg stfu

fernandoalo_official 👍

⤷ yn.jpg dad approved. thank you nando

norrisnation ARE WE OFFICIALLY GETTING THE BF REVEAL? IS THIS THE REVEAL? IM GOING INSANE

yukitauri WAR IS OVER

yukitauri MY BABIES IM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW

yukitauri ALSO MY PARENTS ‼️ MY PARENTS ONLY BC YALL ARE HATERS

yukitauri THROWING UP RIPPING MY HAIR OUT YN IT IS A DAMN TUESDAY YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW

rizzciardo i expect an increase in content of them. i need it

formulatsunoda ykw i’ll be so honest i did NOT expect it to be yuki but im not mad 🤭

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alex_albon, yukitsunoda0511 and 354,672 others

yn.jpg back to our regularly scheduled program 😼

view all 3,465 comments

yn.jpg i am @/fernandoalo_official btw and he is @/ynln.official. he’s just a silly teenage-ish girl

⤷ dreamyalbon YN PLEASE WHAT 😭

⤷ fernandolandoland okay but her relationship with fernando is so wholesome she rlly is his grid child

alex_albon nurse, she’s out again

⤷ yn.jpg 🤺

maxfewtrell this account is my roman empire

⤷ oscarpiastri same mate

maxsupermax we are so back

yukitauri idk about yall but i won’t be moving on from the bf reveal that is my home

yn.jpg @/schecoperez not commenting = hater 😿

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated — dae <3

GENERAL TAGLIST | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @minkyungseokie @arkhammaid @vroomvroomverstappen @vellicora @stopeatread @topguncultleader @cixrosie @leclercvsx @motorsp0rt @piasstrisblog @lokietro @spidersophie

JPG TAGLIST | @dl-yum @youdontknowmeshh @lighttsoutlewis @kodzuvk @sofs16 @raevyng @p4st3lst4rs @1655clean @judespoision @evans-dejong @leireggsworld @landosgirlxoxo @3joracha @lanando4 @toasttt11 @gaslysainz @sadg3 @scenesofobx @leilanixx @zaynzierulez @flippingmyshit @goldenharrysworld @celesteblack08 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @willowpains @coolio2195 @bey0ndne0 @sheslikeacurse @sadg3 @biitch-with-wifi @torchbearerkyle @plutotcles @cherry-piee (more tags in comments + some would allow me to tag 💔)

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Bad moon rising I

Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Word count: 3.1k

Poly!lost boys x Emerson!reader

[1] [2] [3] [4]

A/n: This is the first time writing for the lost boys, I will let yall know if there are any major warnings in each chapters or not. But I hope that you guys enjoy reading the first chapter.

���Don't go around tonight

Well it's bound to take your life

There's a bad moon on the rise’

Your legs were killing you. 

After hours of sitting in the back seat of the Land Cruiser, you were growing restless. And Nanook didn’t really help when the dog draped his entire body over your lap, his weight making both of your legs go numb. 

You could hear the sounds of your brothers and mom arguing over which radio station they should listen too for the rest of the drive. The occasional static from the radio making you roll your eyes. 

Maybe your legs weren’t the only thing tired from the long drive, maybe the voices of your family were starting to drive you crazy. 

“Oh,” your mom suddenly said, turning up the music that was currently on. “This one is from my generation.” A smile inched its way on your face as you watched mom dance along to the music. 

Both Sam and Micheal turned to face each other, a soft grin playing other lips as they listened to the ole timey song. “Keep going.” They said together. 

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Mom said as she switched the channel. “My music isn’t hip enough for you guys.”

You leaned forward in your seat, hand resting on Nanooks fur to keep him still. “Hip?” 

“Yeah, you know. Cool, fresh, narly.” Your mom told you, bringing her hand up to do a surfers hand gesture. 

You glanced over at Micheal, trying to see if he too was hearing what mom was describing. He just gave you a playful eye roll, and a shake of his head. Not wanting to tell mom that nobody actually used those words in real life. 

“We’re almost there.” Your mom told you in a sing song manor. 

Glancing past Micheal you saw a billboard, the words Welcome to Santa Carla read across the front, an image of the towns beach drawn on cartoonishly. 

Sam let out a gag, his nose turnt up towards the window. “What’s that smell?” He asked, quickly rolling up the glass to try and block the stench from entering the car. 

Mom closed her eyes, taking a long sniff of the outside breeze. “That’s the ocean air, baby”

“It smells like someone died.”

You snorted at your youngest brothers comment, he wasn’t totally wrong. The saltyness that suffocated the air around you was a bit much, but you’d grow used to it, you all will eventually. 

“Look guys, I know the last year has been tough.” Mom said, glancing back at the rear view mirror at both you and Micheal. “But I think your really gonna like it here.”

You couldn’t count on either hands on how many times your mother had said those exact words to you three. It always starts with the ‘I know’ and always ends in your really gonna like this place. But, if you were being a hundred percent honest you missed back home. 

All of your friends and what’s left of your now broken family is all back home in Phoenix. And you know that mom is doing all that she can to keep everything positive, but deep down you know that the divorce is hurting her just as badly as it is hurting you and your brothers. 

As the car continued to drive down the road, you watched as the sign showed the back. It was packed with graffiti art and even a couple of stickers stuck to wood. But, what caught your attention most was the five letter word painted in black and red. 

Murder capital of the world.

Upon entering Santa Carla, you’ve noticed that there is just about any type of person you could imagine walking along the streets. There were girls in bathing suits, guys with halve shaved heads, groups of tourists, the locals, nerds, jocks. Hell you even saw a dog with its fur colored pink. 

You just hoped that at night the people were better looking. 

Mom pulled beneath the cover of a food shack, allowing everyone to step out and get some fresh air after ten hours on the road. Sam leashed up Nanook and took him to the bathroom, also venturing his new home town by himself as he did so. 

You woke up your legs as you stepped out of the Land Cruiser, the nerves shooting up and down your body, you wobbled a bit on your feet before steadying yourself against the car. You felt sweat begin to form beneath your clothes, causing them to stick uncomfortably to your skin. “Holy cow.” You muttered gently fanning yourself to try and cool off a little. 

You were used to the heat from the sun, but God, the humidity is what’s gonna kill you this summer.  

As you continued to fan yourself off, you noticed all the small shops that surrounded you. They were old and kind of antique-ish looking. But, past that laid the boardwalk, were you knew you’d be spending the remainder of you summer break and nights. 

Sam came jogging back towards the car, Nanook right on his tail. He stopped before mom as he pointed a finger at the boardwalk behind him. “Mom! Mom, there’s and amusement park right on the beach.”

Instead of acknowledging the said park, you watched as mom pulled out a small wad of cash. Placing it in Sam’s hand she gestured to a group of homeless kids rummaging through the dumpster. “Sam, tell those kids to eat something. Will ya’?”

As you watch Sam walk over towards the kids, you notice a telephone pole covered from head to toe in posters. Stepping away from the car and wandering over you read a few, hoping to catch a couple help wanted ads or even just something small enough to help out your family. 

Though instead of any job listing you did find a good amount of missing children posters. Actually, it’s just about a missing everyone poster. There is a little boy that looks about six, a grainy picture of him is nailed down with staples. And beside it is a man in what looks like his mid to early fourties, his balding head and crooked teeth makes you wonder who would miss a guy like that. 

Glancing past the telephone pole, you eyed the teenagers in the dumpster carefully. For all you know these kids could go missing next, and no one would try and look for them. 

The thought made your stomach twist in a discusted knot, the idea that you or even one of your brothers could turn up missing one day and nobody would bat an eye, didn’t sit right with you. 

A car honked from behind you, turning around you noticed that your family is back in the cars AC and that they are all waiting on you. “Y/n, sweetheart.” Your mom called, poking her head out the window. “We have to go, grandpas waiting for us.”

You quickly made your way back to the car, plopping back down in your seat as mom slowly pulled out of the food shack. The feeling of cold breeze in your face cooled you off a lot more than your hand did. 

After a while the car pulled up to an old two story house, the arch way made out of tree limbs and nails made you question how sturdy that would actually be in a storm. Once the car came to a complete stop everyone piled out, the dirt road beneath you dirtied up the end of your blue jeans. The bottom of your converse’s making little patterns in the grime. 

Micheal, who had decided to ride his bike for the rest of the drive, slowly unstradled the vehicle, his eyes darting around the front yard of the house. Wood carvings of animals and an old trailer was near the back of the yard, the fence that surrounded us was slightly spaced out and cut into sharp ends. 

“This is homey.” You muttered to micheal, the backpack that you carried felt heavy on your back after hours of not wearing it. 

Micheal hummed in agreement, albeit sarcasticly. 

Glancing back at the house itself, you took in the porch, it had one too many rocking chairs and wooden tables for you to count. There were even empty beer bottles rolling across the porch floor. But, you stopped judging the home style around you when you noticed a pair of legs laid out on the ground. 

Taking erie steps, you all cautiously eyed the body. Both fear and concern bubbling deep inside of you. Fear that this would be the first dead body you’ve seen and concern over who will come and clean it. 

Mom walked ahead of you and your brothers, crouching down by the head of the body. “Dad?” She asked, swiping hair out of his face as she did so. “Dad?”

“It looks like he’s dead.” Micheal stated, eyes glancing swiftly from his mom and the supposedly dead body before them. 

Mom shook her head, gently shaking her dad awake. “No, he’s just a heavy sleeper.” 

“Why is he asleep on the porch?” Micheal asked, trying to understand the older man. 

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, taking in the supposedly dead corpse in front of you. “Is the heat from the sun gonna make his body decay faster?” You pondered out loud, ignoring the glare your mom gave you. 

“Yeah. And if he’s dead can we move back to Phoenix?” Sam added on for you, receiving the same look your mom just gave you. 

“The both of you be quiet.” She scolded. 

Suddenly grandpas head popped up, his eyes half lidded as he held a smug smirk. “Playin’ dead. And, from what I heard doing a damn good job of it, too.”

You watched as mom playfully swatted at her dad, before leaning down and giving him a good hug. Sharing a quick glance at your brothers, they both held the same expression that you did. Confused and slightly baffled at how the old man acts. 

The inside of the house looked just like the cabins from Friday the thirteenth. The floor was wood, the stairs were wood, an even the walls were wood. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the refrigerator and sink were made out it, too.

You walked through the house with a cardboard box labeled kitchen, both Sam and Micheal right behind you. Though Micheal was carrying a barbell with a couple of weights and shirts on it, and Sam had a bowl on his head with tied up comics ontop. 

“This place is straight out of a horror movie.” Sam whined, as they reached the kitchen. “I wouldn’t be surprised if their are dead body’s buried somewhere.”

“It’s not that bad.” you tried to reason, placing the box onto the counter and cutting through the tape. 

Sam stared at you bewildered, “Not that bad? Not that bad!” He started to raise his voice, setting down the comics and bowl beside you as he continued. “There’s no TV. Have you seen a TV? I haven’t seen a TV.”

You shrugged your shoulders, taking a couple porcelain plates from the box and setting them in a cabinet. “Use your imagination.”

“Imagination?” The boy raised his voice a little bit higher. “You know who else used there imagination? The Torrence family, and they ended up trying to kill each other.”

“Ok, one this is not The Shinning. And, two, you kill me I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” 

Micheal chuckled at yours and Sam’s conversation, “Oh, you think this is funny Micheal?” Sam asked the irritation of no TV or even MTV was starting to get to him. 

“A little.” He told his brother, placing the barbell down and walking back towards the car. “But, we’re flat broke, Sammy. Can’t afford a new TV for this joke of a place.”

You walked back and forth from the car, box after box, cutting open and placing your stuff with Grandpas. It was tiring, but, you wanted to get it done now so that you could go to the boardwalk tonight. 

Though your brothers on the other hand, weren’t as helpful as you were trying to be. 

Sam ran through the living room, swaying between the boxes that littered the ground as he sprinted away from Micheal. The said older boy was running down the stairs, he hoped over the railing near the bottom and took off after Sam. 

You were pulling out a vase from a box, tearing off the bubble wrap and placing it perfectly on the table. You took a small step back and eyed the spot, debating if you should move it one way or another for it to look right. 

But, as you stepped back, you acidently stood right infront of Micheal’s path. He collided with your side, sending you both tumbling to the ground. “Dammit, Micheal!” You shouted, quickly getting up just as your brother did. Continuing with his chase after Sam, you immediately ran after him. 

“Hey, guys, no running in the house.” Mom called out to the three of you, though no one paid her any mind as you all just continued to chase one another. 

Sam stopped before two sliding doors, shoving each of them open. You and Micheal caught up with your brother, you about ready to shove Micheal for knocking you to the ground, when you saw what laid behind the double doors. 

Taxidermy animals laid on the table in front of you, some were even hung up to the ceiling because there was no more room on the surface. The three of you stood shocked at the room, you more disturbed that so many dead animals were cut open like they currently were. 

“I think we found the dead bodies, Sam.” You told him, referring to your earlier talk about grandpa hiding dead corpses. 

Sam let out a snort, eyeing the room with interest. Micheal leaned up against your side, his elbow coming up to rest on your shoulder. Even at pratically the same height he liked to remind you which of the two was the tallest. 

“Talk about Texas chainsaw massacre.” 

“Rules.” A voice suddenly called out, bringing each of your attention to grandpa who had a cardboard box in hand. “We got some rules around here.”

He gestured with his hand to follow, which you all did begrudgingly. The old man led you to the refrigerator, and upon opening it you saw a sign that read, ‘Old fart’. You hid your amused smile behind your hand as Grandpa began to explain the rules. 

“The second shelf is mine.” He stated matter of factly, easing the sign to show a couple of beer bottles and a box of Oreos hidden behind it. He waved a finger at all three of you, “Don’t nobody touch the second shelf, ya’ hear.”

You nodded along with your brothers, grandpa then waddled out of the kitchen leaving you to trail behind him. You watched discustedly as Micheal began to shove his finger in Sam’s ear, the younger boy trying to push him away when Micheal wrapped an arm around the poor boys neck. 

Clearing his throat, Micheal directed his attention back at grandpa. “Hey, grandpa? Is it true that Santa Carla is the murder capital of the world?” He asked, refusing to let Sam go from his grasp. 

Murder capital of the world. 

Those were the exact words you’d read off the back of the billboard. You hadn’t known that Micheal had read that aswell, although he appears to be taking the towns chosen nickname more jokingly than you had. 

Grandpa slowly turned back around to face the three of you, his eyes darting across each face. “There are some bad elements around here.” He told you, though his voice seemed to be a lot more serious than anything. 

Sam finally shoves Micheal off of him, “Woah, wait a minute. You mean to tell me that we moved to the murder capital of the world?” He asked, getting close to the old man’s face. “Are you serious grandpa?”

You watched as grandpa took his time with his next words of choice. “Well- let me put it this way; if all the corpses buried around here were to stand up at once, we’d have a serious population problem.”

That did about anything but soothe your racing mind. Are we gonna get killed here? Are you actually going to go missing and nobody would care? Could Sam, Micheal or even mom turn up dead one day?

Your thoughts immediately went back to the missing posters, all the untraced people that had disappeared off the face of the earth. And not one of them had been found. You don’t think your gonna like it here all that much, you concluded. 

Mom suddenly sauntered in the living room, a stack of hats resting ontop of her head. “Oh, Dad. You’re gonna give them nightmares.” She told him, not wanting to deal with three teenagers wandering into her room at night complaining about what grandpa had told them. 

Grandpa waved his hand, dismissing her accusation. Changjng the conversation, he picked up a TV guide that sat on the end table, waving back to you and your brothers he began to explain another rule of his. 

“Now, when the mailman brings the TV guide on wensdays, sometimes the corner of the address label will curl up.” He pointed to the address label on the guide, the corner slowly thrusting itself up towards the ceiling. “You’ll be tempted to peel it off. Don’t. You’ll end up ripping the cover, and I don’t like that

He tossed the TV guide back on a different table, making his way back to the taxidermy room. He yanked the sliding doors together and they closed with a great, smack. “And stay out of here.”

Grandpa then walked away, though not before Sam stood in his pathway, excitement rising in his chest. “There’s a TV?” He asked, slightly crossing his fingers for the man to say yes. 

“No. I just like to read the TV guide. Read the guide and you don’t need the Tv.” He then walked away, leaving Sam with a disappointed look. 

“See,” you told him, walking towards a couple of boxes that were laid about the living room floor. “Now, you get to use you imagination.”

Sam pointed a finger at you, “When we go crazy, here- and we will, you’ll be the first that I kill.”

You pushed Sam out of your way with your shoulder, balancing the box on your hip. “Then be prepared for me to haunt you until the end of times, Samuel Emerson.”

A/a/n: Hello and thank you for reading the first chapter :) Now we won’t meet the boys until the next chapter, but I am debating if I should just make that chapter about you meeting them or add on. I still haven’t decided. But thank you again and the next chapter will be done as quickly as possible ;)

[k1mbe3rly]

Hii, I was wondering if you could do a yandere se-mi headcannons/story?💕🫶

real.

Yandere Se-mi headcannons

warnings: kills, NSFW, ⚠️WLW STRAP⚠️

Yandere! Se-mi who will obsess over you and constantly stalking you and watching your every move, and will go to great lengths to keep you to herself.

Yandere! Se-mi who slowly becomes extremely possessive and jealous, lashing out at anyone who she perceives as a threat to yalls relationship

Yandere! Se-mi who will try to control every aspect of the your life, from who you talk to, to what you do and where you go.

Yandere! Se-mi who does emotional manipulation to control you and what you’re interested in, using techniques like guilt-tripping and gaslighting to make things go her way.

Yandere! Se-mi who becomes violent if she feels like you’re trying to break away from her or if she feels like she is losing control of the relationship.

“Why haven’t you came over in 2 days? what the hell is going on huh?! fucking cheating on me you slut?!”

Than proceeds to fuck you harshly while her hands are wrapped around your throat, tightening and softening her hands around it.

Yandere! Se-mi who buys many airtags and places it in your purse, and car., she also buys small cameras and places them around your house when your fucked out on the bed and can’t even move after she fucked you

Yandere! Se-mi who follows you thru malls, grocery stores and even when your with your friends, she also makes sure when you tell her your with your family that your actually with your family

Yandere! Se-mi who forces you to give you all her passwords to anywhere you can communicate with other people snapchat, instagram, facebook, messenger, and twitter

“Who the fuck is ‘Jun hee’ talking about her baby daddy isn’t myung gi?”

Yandere! Se-mi who records you getting fucked by her strap and moaning and crying for her as she pinches and pulls your nipples a bit than proceeds to send it to anyone who flirts with you

Yandere! Se-mi who drags you to a public bathroom only for you to get yelled out and fingered roughly

“Why is your ‘Childhood friend’ looking at you like that hm? the second we get home i want you to block them okay baby? Your mine. Cum on my fingers baby, Do what i say..”

Yandere! Se-mi who notices one boy who keeps texting you and even visited your job after she got a notification from your account with him texting you

“I’m glad I got to see you, wanna do that again some time?”

Yandere! Se-mi who know believes you cheated on her, so not only she goes and finds the guy and kills him brutually but goes to you with bloody hands and fingers you with his blood on her hands

Yandere! Se-mi who is fucking with you with the strap roughly as tears filled your eyes moaning loudly, she’s gripping on your hips hard enough to leave a bruise as she said soemthing that immediately turned you off

“Fuck! you know you kinda sound like that one boy i murdered for you” she said smirking as she wanted to see your reaction

Yandere! Se-mi who notices you stopped moaning and stared at her in fear as she kept thrusting into you, eventually she stopped

“What did you say..?” you spoke to her, “Nothing baby you just look so sexy right now..” she whispered to you, “No i heard what you said..what do you mean? did you actually kill someone Se-mi?!” you yelled out, “He was stealing what’s mine.”

Yandere! Se-mi who watches you cry in fear as she threatens that if you ever leave she’ll kill you too but deep down she won’t cause she just loves you so much

Yandere! Se-mi who has to strangle you down after you tried running for the front door

“Are you serious? your being so ungrateful! fucking went out of my way and murdered that stupid slut for you! and this is how you reward me?”

Yandere! Se-mi who ties you up teases you until you can’t take it

“Tell me you’ll stay with me. Tell me you won’t leave me and i’ll let you cum and even untie you”

“I’ll stay you! i promise! Just please i can’t take it anymore! I’ll be with you forever!” you cried out sobbing as she smirks, that night you had the biggest orgasm and find yourself crying silently on the bed as she cuddles you

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

One thing that irks me when playing the game is how silver’s sleeping disorder is reacted to by the other characters, especially the teachers. I mean like, I get on some level that they’re all based on villains so they’re not going to be the nicest, but you’re telling me you see a kid just passing out out of nowhere constantly and the first thing they do is say that he’s lazy and berate him for something he obviously can’t control? Even if his condition isn’t a medical one like narcolepsy and is part of his curse/blessing, it’s still debilitating and affects his daily life. I don’t expect twisted wonderland to have like, disability protection but give the kid a break man he’s trying his best 😭. It also bothers me when other students are like “yeah man I get it schools boring I get sleepy too”. Like, yall have seen him suddenly fall asleep standing up and in random places on campus, it is so obviously not the same thing! And then Silver apologizes for it like every time! no! stop it! don’t apologize for something you literally can’t control

Sorry for the rant. It’s just been something bugging me because its so similar to how real world disabilities that aren’t physical are often brushed over by people and it gets me feeling heated 😭

Oooh, that's an interesting analogy 🤔

Before I talk more on the topic, I want to open with a few disclaimers: I will be discussing various characters’ reactions to Silver’s blessing/curse-induced narcolepsy (for lack of a better term), which may parallel real-life reactionary behaviors related to persons with disabilities or disorders. Know what you are reading, and please skip this post if you do not feel emotionally equipped to take it in.

Additionally, I want to make it clear that I am NOT defending any of those behaviors in this post. I will be attempting to offer in-universe explanations, NOT excuses, for why characters may act the way they do in regard to Silver’s condition. This doesn’t make the behavior any less unacceptable.

That’s all! If you’re all set, feel free to proceed below the cut.

I think, from the perspective of the students, it may be difficult to know what's going on with Silver?? Of course, that doesn't make their reactions or their behavior okay, but it's more understandable where they're coming from. Many young adults (unfortunately) aren't educated on and don't have experience/knowledge of how to handle situations where a peer displays abnormal behaviors. This may be especially true at Night Raven College, where the students are described to be very prideful and primarily concerned with themselves, or, if they help at all, they expect something in return. Many of Silver's classmates may not know him on a personal enough level to be familiar with his affliction or care enough to intervene if he falls asleep standing up. I doubt that most students at NRC would think of a peer beyond how they initially present, much less even consider factors beyond their control.

Additionally, others may not feel a need to step in due to the "bystander effect", a psychological phenomenon in which people are less likely to offer aid if there are others present. The theory goes that everyone just assumes someone else will do something about the situation, which has the unintended result of no one doing anything. Since Silver often falls asleep in public places, this could, in part, explain why so few bother helping.

I guess another component of it could be that some of his peers have simply gotten used to it by now?? (Several characters, even first years like Ortho, indicate that they anticipate he will fall asleep like 80% of the time.) Silver's a second year, so maybe NRC students did notice and attempt to assist in the first year, only to become annoyed with it when the symptoms persisted and so it could have led to peers thinking it's a "normal" thing for him.

I get the sense that Silver doesn't exactly go around telling everyone and anyone about his condition in detail (not that he has to, but I'd imagine that this lack of communication probably doesn't help his classmates' perception of him). He tends to describe his condition as "a personal problem" or blames himself or a lack of diligence for his symptoms. And honestly, I don't blame him for that; he didn't learn about the origins of his curse until book 7, and no doctor Lilia took him to could help. What else could Silver feasibly believe when all else fails? It must be his own doing. Silver has numerous voice lines apologizing for dozing off again and actively seeks out ways to "correct" or counteract his sleepiness. When this is how one presents their own condition, it may naturally cause those around him to believe that the sleepiness is "his fault"/due to his own actions. "Maybe he stayed up late last night," Ruggie suggests. Even Kalim, someone I'd consider Silver's friend, makes similar assumptions.

I will say that not every character is rude to Silver about his sleepiness. Vil might berate Silver for "playing the part of a sleeping princess" and Floyd might tell him, "People walk here. Find someplace else to snooze," but Ruggie appears to show some concern/shock for Silver when he shows up in the school store barely being able to stand, Jade tries to wake him up gently, etc. I'm not sure if the writing being inconsistent here was on accident or not, but I do think that some of the... less than desirable... behaviors may be because the narrative treats Silver's condition like a charm point most of the time. Like... Silver's sleepiness is often used to "sell" his appeal to fans ("Look at how cute he is! Eepy boi!"), or used for comedy in-universe (like when he uses Sebek as a pillow or when Silver blatantly falls asleep in a conversation or in the middle of an important event like the race in White Rabbit Fest). Because of this, rarely is his condition actually treated with the seriousness it would get if this were a real-world disability.

I think there’s a debate to be had about these kinds of impolite comments coming from Sebek though. Sebek is Silver’s childhood friend, so Sebek must be accustomed to the narcolepsy at this point and we’d normally expect him to be most sympathetic about it. But nope, Sebek actually frequently criticizes Silver for letting his sleepiness get the better of him. The majority of other students’ harsh comments towards Silver actually come from Sebek. He drops lines like:

“Don't you dare tell me you're falling asleep again, Silver!”

“His blatant snoring is infuriating.”

“Wake up, Silver! You're blocking Malleus's path! It's absolutely disrespectful!”

“If you don't cease at once, I'm leaving you on the side of the walkway!”

“It’s not as if you've been enchanted by a fairy. You’re just lazy!”

This all sounds horrible and mean, doesn't it? And they definitely are. But hold on! Sebek also says things like, "You're nodding off while walking AGAIN? A proper retainer of Malleus should hold his head high! High, you hear me?!” and, “Please, don't [volunteer yourself for this task]. You'll just end up nodding off. You must accept this is beyond your capabilities and let it go.” The former can be seen as telling Silver to do his best as Malleus's retainer and the latter is advising Silver to back down rather than push himself past his limits. That's not just me being optimistic or giving Sebek the benefit of the doubt just because he's a character I happen to like--Sebek has a known history of phrasing compliments and encouragement in a very rude manner. It's a trait of his that earns him endless ire, and something that Silver often finds himself apologizing to others for. Sebek is also a person who values constant self-improvement both in himself and in others; his cold attitude towards even his childhood friend can be interpreted as his own way of wanting Silver to do his best in spite of his condition. This… isn’t always a good thing though, as this thinking is ultimately ableist and runs the risk of pushing people—himself included—into dangerous situations that may out their wellbeing at risk.

This isn't to defend every single thing Sebek says about Silver's condition though; some of them are definitely too much, even if Sebek is granted as much leniency as possible. Do his comments come off as ableist? Absolutely. Is it his intention to be ableist? I don’t believe so—but that doesn’t negate the fact that his words are needlessly cruel, even if Silver doesn’t perceive it as such or take offense to it. Oftentimes Silver agrees with Sebek’s assessment, which again loops us back to how he already blames himself for his state and could parallel real world disabled peoples’ guilt and shame for just… being the way they are. Us, as the outside onlookers, are of course more likely to perceive Sebek’s words as rude because we’re projecting our own experiences onto what we’re seeing. Of course we don’t want to see a friend saying these awful things to another friend—but between Silver and Sebek, they seem to be mutually okay with this dynamic of pushing one another to “be better”.

I understand that it can be frustrating watching Silver have to say sorry for something that he can't control, but this is most likely a deliberate writing choice for his character arc—and depicting that flaw isn’t bad in a vacuum. Silver is someone who struggles with his self-worth, something we very much see come into fruition in book 7. He worries that he's not doing enough to "repay" his father back, and that it will be too late for him once Lilia departs from NRC. Silver frequently apologizing for his "shortcomings" (ie his constant drowsiness) is probably an extension of that lack of self-worth. He blames himself for his lack of alertness and actively tries to "be better" for a reason. It feeds into the ever-so-ironic cycle of "Silver is sleepy" -> "Silver thinks he must work hard to not inconvenience his loved ones and prove his worth to Lilia" -> "Lilia loves him anyway and he just doesn't realize it yet". (The whole reason Silver is even here right now is because of Lilia's love for him; he would still be sleeping were it not for Lilia.) Perhaps they'll be able to formally reunite in the waking world and wrap up this arc with a neat little bow... with his father telling Silver that yes, he is enough as he is now. Maybe Lilia will even say something along the lines of, "Never apologize for what--or who--you are, Silver. You're my son, after all! You should be proud of that."

This makes me wonder if Silver’s curse will ultimately be lifted in the end or if it will persist…? Because if it does get lifted, then it loses some of its strength as a parallel to irl conditions (since some don’t just poof away). Within the meta of the game, Silver then also loses some of his “appeal”, since sleepiness is a cute trait associated with him. I can see why it would happen from a narrative perspective though—ridding him of the sleepiness could be the ultimate “proof” of Lilia being able to truly love him, which is the condition the blessing requires to be dispelled

What really baffles me, however, is how some teachers are depicted interacting with Silver. The asshole students of NRC, okay. I'd believe they'd be callous towards one of the few nice guys at school dozing off. BUT THE TEACHERS????? 💀 Usually it's not that bad (they tell Silver to keep his eyes open or to wake up), but MAN. In Silver's Labwear vignettes, Crewel berates him for nodding off in class again, grants him a makeup assignment, and says, "If you like sleeping so much, [formulating a sleeping potion] should be right up your alley." He even withholds Silver's credit for Potionology until he receives that sleeping potion. Crewel also berates and punishes Silver in other instances, such as his Dorm Uniform vignettes: "Naughty pup. You think you can sleep through my lesson? [...] What a quick apology. Are you actually sorry? [...] You don't look remorseful to me. Hmph. As punishment, you must collect the reports everyone is turning in at the end of class. Do not miss a single one, and you are to bring them straight to me. Is that clear?" It feels a little… much, especially considering that it’s not like Silver chose to fall asleep midclass, especially as a second year. Then again, Crewel probably doesn’t know about Silver’s condition either so he most likely attributes the behavior to laziness, as Silver does himself. I’d say that Crewel should still at least know a little better as an adult but 💀 many adults have no clue themselves, especially without a formal diagnosis.

Does NRC not have a, like... Disability and Accessibility Center to coordinate with teachers and give certain students assignment/exam extensions??? Therapy, healing potions, and medical mages + regular doctors and dentists exist in this world, so why wouldn't they also have disability support??? 😭 That seems like a HUGE oversight to me. (Get on that, Crowley/j) In all seriousness though, this may be the result of differences in culture?? It might be expected in western countries to have some disability accommodations, but from what I understand, there’s a loooot more stigma in Japan so these services may be lacking (not to day that western countries have perfect accommodations though). Yes, NRC is based on a British boarding school, but ultimately the game is Japanese in origin and therefore might be running off of Japanese notions of what constitutes as “appropriate” support for the disabled. (The way seating in classes are arranged in-game already derive from Japanese schools; alphabetically by last name.) Maybe that’s why Crewel didn’t seem to be willing to make exceptions for Silver…? But even so, this could mirror how western societies also have trouble identifying and adjusting to those with disabilities. It can be hard to get treatment or even mindfulness from peers, especially if you don't have a formal diagnosis (which is the case for Silver; no medical mage knows what's up with him).

Those are my thoughts on the topic ^^ Again, I completely get why seeing the staff and students reacting this way to Silver’s condition makes you (and others, I’m sure) upset. There’s many uncomfortable parallels with how people irl are insensitive to “invisible” disabilities or disabilities in general. It also doesn’t help that Twst tries to both present the condition as a serious matter while also using it for comedy and marketing as Silver’s major “cute quirk”. Getting mixed signals here!!

I hope that this was at least able to grant you some new perspective about why the characters behave as they do. Some of it does seem to be the devs struggling to balance the tone of the stories they want to tell, but some of it also feels like intentional characterization (whether of individuals or of a certain dynamic between a duo) or setting up for an arc.

It would be interesting if we got an event where we explored more of the health industry and attitudes about like… magic-induced conditions, illnesses, etc. Silver is one obvious case of this, but we also know medical mages are A Thing. I’d love to learn more about these!

[oyasumire]

since a second wave of toshiro hate has hit the towers thanks to the latest dunmeshi episode, I just wanna say it’s pretty odd and very telling how so many white fans who have waxed poetic about the intricacies of race relations between different species in this series cannot stop talking about how much toshiro sucks as if coming from a different country with different customs that directly influence how you behave just to have an overfamiliar white boy be casually racist, butcher your name, and treat you like an exotic specimen isn’t a good enough reason to dislike someone

like I know autism gets more sympathy than real life, non fantasy related racism from yall and that’s why everyone is rallying in defense of laios so hard but can we put our thinking caps on for 2 minutes 😭